


A Reversal of Fortune

by Panda_Valentine



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Adult Content, Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-09-30 19:23:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 62,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17229770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Panda_Valentine/pseuds/Panda_Valentine
Summary: In Another World where Cid Garlond followed Gaius into the XIV to rise to the rank of Tol, and Nero Scaeva joined the Ministry, eventually becoming a Nan before defecting to Eorzea it follows the two Garlean Engineers and their interactions with the Scaevan Ironworks, the Scions of the Seventh and the Warrior of Light if roles had been reversed.





	1. Chapter 1

PROLOGUE

Nero nan Scaeva, traitor to the Garlean Empire, founder and proprietor of the Scaevan Ironworks of Eorzea and Engineer extraordinaire if he did say so himself (which he frequently did) rested one booted foot on the edge of the broken sewer grate and looked down at the battered, injured man attempting to haul himself out of Castrum Meridianum.

“Fancy meeting you here, old friend.” Nero purred, not even trying to disguise the fact that he was crowing. “And you can put down that device you're no doubt palming in hopes of disabling me and making your escape.”

Cid tol Garlond, builder of the Ultima weapon, second in command of the XIVth legion and, surprisingly, survivor of the Praetorium having fucking exploded around him didn't bother to look up, his hasty plans to disable Nero with an electronic blast from the exposed wires of his armor paused for the moment.

He recognized the voice painfully well.

Not only had the men been friends and rivals in Magitek School but Cid had heard it come through the hacked Linkshell before everything had gone so very wrong.  
“Up yonder hill the main contingent of the Eorzean Alliance is surging its way through what little remains of Castrum Merdian's outer defenses after Dainty got through playing whack-a-vole with them.” Nero continued, gloating “The light from any escape attempt you might make will no doubt bring a whole herd of them charging in this direction and you don't want that, not in your state, do you, old friend?”

Cid tol Garlond, being barely capable of walking after dragging himself out of the twisted wreck of the Praetorium, really did not want that to occur.

“No doubt the Alliance would be only to pleased to have a token Imperial to string up for the mess Ultima Weapon has made of the countryside. It wasn't actually supposed to explode like that, now was it?”

“What do you want, Nero?” Cid told Garlond hissed, tasting blood in the back of his throat and shooting a hateful glare at Nero nan Scaeva.

Blue eyes filled with loathing met blue eyes filled with laughter.

It was unsurprisingly that the men had the same shade on their iris. Blue eyes were a common, predominant train for pure bloods, as both were, despite hailing from very different walks of life.  
It was sometimes referred to as Bombardier blue but most commonly given the apt title of Garlean blue.

“Well...” Nero sucked on his bottom lip a moment trying to decide how much of his hand to reveal and what to keep to himself. “... once upon a time one confused shitebag of a tol saved my life. I aim to return the favour.”

“What’s in it for you?” Cid tol Garlond, despite having not laid eyes on the man in front of him in almost a decade was only too familiar with how the mind of Nero nan Scaeva worked. The blond was not doing this out of the goodness of his heart no matter what he claimed.

“Oh, you'll see.” Nero laughed. “But do make up your mind quickly. I rather think I hear footsteps approaching. What will it be, Tribunus? Let the Alliance find you or an entry level Engineers position with Scaevan Ironworks? T'is not nearly so glamorous as being the Emperor's lapdog, and lauded Engineer of the XIVth, I grant you but it is better than rotting in an Alliance jail cell for the rest of your natural life. If they don’t execute you outright.”

Nero extended a hand to the other Garlean.

Cid tol Garlond glared at it with full disgust for several moments before, with a vocal snarl he grabbed it and allowed the other man to yank him none to gently to his feet.

“You always were a smart one.” Nero nan Scaeva taunted then paused, lifting a hand to his ear and pausing to speak to someone else."... you have her safe? Came flying out of the Praetorium on a Reaper with all Seven Hells at her heels? That certainly does sound like Dainty's usual dramatics. I shall rendezvous with you at the Western most point, behind the troops. I'm bringing a..... guest..... If I'm not there to be collected in 5, raise Hell. Nero out.”

Blue eyes shifted in Cid tol Garlond's direction, knowing full well these instructions had thwarted any attempt the man might have made at poleaxing Nero from behind and escaping into the dark.

“Come along, Garlond. We've magitek to build.”

 

ONE

Cid tol Garlond looked at the unappetizing slop that had the nerve to call itself crumpets with butter and honey.

White hair flopped lazily into his unimpressed blue eyes and for what seemed like the hundredth time that morning he shoved in angrily out of the way. Growing out the close cropped, military style he had worn since joining the XIVth Legion under Gaius van Baelsar’s command had been Nero’s “suggestion”. 

A suggestion Cid was not at liberty to refuse. Nor had he willing to risk refusing when Nero had “suggested” he might consider growing a beard as well. 

The alterations to Cid tol Garlond’s strikingly Garlean features could only prove to be a boon in Eorzea where, should anyone discover he still lived, it would result in his instant incarceration and very likely his execution.

He did undeniably furnish a Rogue Imperial General with an Allagans Super Weapon in order to bring the wayward Eorzea to Garlean heel, after all.

They frowned on that sort of thing around here.

He picked up one of the crumpets, it instantly broke in the middle and landed back in the bowl with an unappetizing splat. Cid merely blinked and attempted to take a bite of what remained to discover it was rock hard. His apathetic expression unflickering he accepted this, dropping the indigestible foodstuff on top of its soggy brethren with the exact same amount of loathing he had accepted the Sceavan Ironworks uniform he now wore.

He hated Eorzea. 

The food was appalling.  
Somehow the entirety of Saint Coinach’s Find managed to be worse cooks than the Imperial Army. Cid tol Garlond had not even thought that possible until confronted with crumpets that were simultaneously soggy and hard.

The weather was horrifying. 

At least in Garlemald you could count on it being cold.  
In Eorzea it would change in an instant, unless the weather was bad and then it dragged on and on and on. He had been keeping a mental tally of how many days of rain and inexplicably purple haze they had had since he and Nero had arrived in Mor Dhona versus how much sunshine they had received.

So far bad weather was beating good weather by at a ratio of 9 to 1.

Still, he could tolerate the food, and the weather, if the people weren’t so grating. 

They were almost entirely half wild and uncouth although Cid tol Garlond would concede a token handful were passably tolerable.

The Roegadyn leader of the Sons of Saint Coinach, Rammbroes, was intelligent and mindful, at least. 

“Good morning!” a pretty Elezen lass greeted Cid warmly, slipping her long legs over the bench on the other side of the picnic style table the lone Garlean sat at. 

The other tables were either all full or completely empty and, unlike most, Carine Montiel was not wary of pure bloods. 

She knew of the Scaevan Ironworks and their motto; Building a Better Future with Technology through Rammbroes and the rumor that Nero nan Scaeva used the Company as a landing ground for Garleans looking to defect from Garlemald had swirled for years.

The silver haired woman saw no reason to suspect that the new comer, clad in an Ironworks Uniform, would be any less friendly than Nero himself or any of the Ironworks fellows. Most of the Company were stationed in Mor Dhona to work on customer projects while Nero went relic hunting with the Sons.

Carine looked at Cid’s sorry looking breakfast and made a sympathetic noise; “The cooks were in rare form today.”

“Mmmm.” Cid returned nothing more than a noncommittal noise, looking away from the woman’s bright violet eyes.

She poked his soggy food with one long, elegant finger, provoking a small eye-twitch of rage from the mostly silent Cid because really? What sort of ill-mannered savage touches someone else’s food without invitation.

“Yep, under-cooked, yet simultaneously burned! Incredible.” Carine laughed, confirming what she had suspected and gave him a pretty smile. “Let me get you another, I know what to look for to avoid the worst of it.”

She rose, capering gracefully towards the mess tent. As she went she passed the table where Nero and Rammbroes were chatting. The red clad Nero, the ruby tinted goggles he perpetually lived in across his forehead to disguise the third eye that resided there, was gesturing broadly with a cup of black coffee.

Carine slowed just a whisker as she passed the table, tossing her long silver white hair and wishing Nero “good morning.” jauntily.

The blond man instantly forgot what he was saying, mouth falling open instead of continuing his thoughts and blue eyes following after the Elezen beauty with clear longing.

Cid tol Garlond gave a shudder of repulsion at Nero’s unsubtle, gormless crush on Carine.

Nero had managed to find his train of thought by the time Carine exited the mess tent, only to lose it again as she handed him a fresh cup of coffee with a little wink and continued on to hand Cid a fresh plate.

Admittedly this crumpet with butter and honey did actually resemble a baked good, as opposed to slightly tan mush. But only just.

“I found the source of the problem.” Carine observed, as friendly and chatty with Cid tol Garlond as she was with everyone. “The cooks are brutally distracted with thoughts of meeting the Warrior of Light. She’s joining us again today, bringing us the last two types of aspected Aethersand. I guess the cooks weren’t here last time she sauntered in, neither was I, I must admit. It’s terribly exciting!” 

“If you say so.” Cid replied coldly, managing a bit of crumpet that didn’t instantly self-destruct onto his plate.

He was aware of this news already.  
Nero had informed him earlier that morning while the blond had specifically confiscated several bits of magitek Cid had been hoarding, accusing Cid of having hopes of cobbling together a makeshift blaster weapon. 

Both were very well aware that if Cid tol Garlond had any hopes of returning to Garlemald at all it would take a display of loyalty on par with killing Eorzea’s fabled protector to pull it off.

The white haired Garlean's apathetic tone of voice and lack of enthusiasm took Carine by surprise, leading her to peep at him over the rim of her own coffee cup; 

“Have you met her before?”

“Yes.”

“What’s she like? They say she’s cold and don’t talk much but Nero gabs on about her like they are the best of friends.”

There was the faintest twinge of jealousy to Carine’s tone.

Cid told Garlond soundly ignored it. 

It was clear to everyone but Carine and Nero that the pair were half twitter-pated for each other and Cid tol Garlond wanted nothing to do with that over whelming stupidity. 

In fact, now that he thought about it, Cid figured Carine’s decision to keep him company that morning was largely motivated by a desire to make Nero jealous.

Without a word he rose, took his plate, and moved to another empty table.

 

_That’s the Warrior of Light?! …. I remember her being taller…._

To say that Cid tol Garlond was underwhelmed by the skinny, pale scaled Raen Au’Ra that came strolling into the encampments of Saint Coinach’s Find at a little after the 10's would have been a massive understatement.

Perhaps it was due to her change of outfit.

She had been wearing primitive plate armor when he saw her last, and wielding an axe as large as her torso with precise devastation, despite the archaic design of her armaments.

Now she was clad in leggings, boots and what appeared to be little more than a bikini top that left quite a bit of skin, and scale exposed to the naked eye. The monstrous ax remained, however.  
This one appearing to have been made from an assortment of Garuda’s massive pinion feathers and its presence on her back marked her as no less a person than a Primal Slayer, despite her casual appearance. 

The outfit displayed just how tiny she really was.

“Dainty!” Rammbroes hailed the woman with a gleeful smile, rising to walk quickly towards her with determined strides. “What news of your mission? Are we any closer to acquiring the remaining abrasives?”

Dainty gave a silent nod, untying two small linen bags from the belt slung low around her hips and handing them over to Rammbroes for inspection.

He fell upon them almost reverently, giving a soft curse of appreciation to realize she’d brought no less than both the remaining requirements.

“Both?!” Rammbroes gave a whoop of delight that the delicate, scaled Dainty utterly ignored, turning on one heel to look over her shoulder.

Her eyes lit on a tall, white haired man in a familiar set of blue and black Scaevan Ironworks attire, flanking the Ironworks’ proprietor himself, Nero nan Scaeva.

“Got yourself another defunct I see, Nero.” Dainty observed, offering the newcomer a graceful Eorzean salute. “Welcome to Eorzea, Ser, may you walk in the light of the Crystal.”

Cid felt a bolt of something cold and hot, like panic and relief all at once shoot up his spine to realize she did not recognize him.  
It made perfect sense, he had been helmeted when they had clashed at the Praetorium.

There was actually no reason to assume that she would automatically recognize him unless she utilized her Echo to do so. Something she would not think to do in the trusted company of friends, like the Sons and the Ironworks.

“Uh, about that, Dainty…” Nero began.

“Master Scaeva! We can begin work on the crystals immediately!” Rammbroes boomed, gleeful and unaware that he had interrupted anything.

Dainty was already turning towards the mess tent, hoping for a spot of coffee while the blond Garlean Engineer worked.

“Dammit…” Nero muttered, stuck between revealing who Cid tol Garlond was in front of Rammbroes and leaving Dainty to languish in ignorance. Still, Dainty not finding out who the “new guy” was until later was not the worst idea in the world.

In fact, it just might prove a very neat way of handling this delicate situation, now that Nero considered it. Presuming Garlond didn’t do anything to provoke the Au’Ra’s ire her learning that she could trust him before she learned his identity would go well for them.

Nero took the athersand, heading towards the makeshift workshop the Sons of Saint Coinach had set up, glancing at Cid tol Garlond out of the corner of his eyes as he did and commenting, sotto voice;

“I would recommend not saying anything to Dainty if you wish to live beyond today, Garlond. She ain't known to be forgiving of those who threaten her beloved Eorzea."

“I doubt I have much to fear from that….child.” Cid commented, eyeing the diminutive Warrior who was being spoken at quite excitedly by two Hyur cooks.

Cid had thought the cooks short but even they managed to stand taller than Dainty. If the top of her head even reached his collarbones he would have eaten his left shoe. 

“Just like you didn’t at the Praetorium, in full armor, with all your toys at your disposal, old friend?” Nero taunted. 

That drew a silent frown from Cid tol Garlond.

Nero was right, despite the woman’s appearance that slender form was not frail and boasted an unrivaled power.

Rammbroes joining them to inspect Nero’s work ceased any communication before Cid tol Garlond could think of a suitable reply.

“Behold, we now possess all four of the "fangs" required to pierce the Crystal Tower's defenses. A trifling matter for someone of my skills.” Nero purred. “By my reckoning, there's nothing stopping us from striding up to the Allagans' front door!”

“My compliments, Master Scaeva!” Rammbroes agreed, eyes full of admiration.

“Oi, you can’t go without me!” Carine protested, running over to join them, and earning a matched eye-roll of annoyance from both Rammbroes and Cid tol Garlond, although neither men acknowledged the others’ similar opinions on the woman’s unrelenting enthusiasm.

“O..of course… Miss Carine..” Nero stumbled on his words, tongue instantly feeling too thick for his mouth at the way the Elezen came to a stop beside him, violet eyes aglow with delight and chest rising and falling rapidly from her sprint. “But… is that wise.. the tower defenses…”

“I’m no Warrior of Light, certainly but I come with a weapon or two of my own.” Carine laughed, patting the bow on her back. “Besides, it's not every day you get the chance to study the wonders of the Allagan Empire, is it? Their technology makes Garlemald's look ancient!”

Her passion for History and her desires for knowledge of the past was one of the many, many things Nero found so intriguing about Carine Montiel. 

The tall, willowy Elezen could have had her choice of suitors, married richly with ease and spent a life of luxury in gowns and jewels. Instead she shirked all that to gleefully dig in the mud, delighting over an unearthed relic the way another might over a diamond necklace.

She had earned herself a solid reputation for uncovering hidden caches of historical treasures that had thwarted all others and had been invited to join the Sons of St Coinach on the weight of those skills.

“I appreciate your enthusiasm, Carine. Just remember we're not here to take this knowledge for ourselves.” Rammbroes commented, failing to keep the scold from his voice. The thirst for knowledge that so attracted Nero to the Elezen was the same thing that exasperated Rammbroes with her. “Twice in the last decade, the promise of unimaginable power has prompted men to meddle with technology they do not understand, and the realm has been dragged unto the very brink of oblivion on both occasions. We shall not be so irresponsible as to risk another.”

“Oh for…” Carine rolled her eyes, wagging a thin finger in Rammbroes face. “Don’t you lecture me, you great big bore. I have no truck with machines that could be used to promote tyranny. That has not changed now. For all the wonders of the all-knowing Allagan Empire it could not save their civilization, and has damn near doomed ours. Twice! I want to explore the Crystal Tower but mark my words, if needs be, I shall be the first to seal away its secrets!”

“A compelling viewpoint….”

Cid tol Garlond turned at this unfamiliar voice, taking in the smug looking male Miqo’te that was sauntering into camp with a rather unchecked bravado. 

His fanged smirk matched the self satisfied and curiously bi-coloured gaze that swept over the group. One eye was green, the other, curiously, vermilion red.

Rammbroes, slightly embarrassed to have been so scolded by Carine welcomed the newcomer with a scowl;

“So, you return at last. What, pray tell, has kept you so wholly preoccupied that you could not spare a moment to inform me of your progress or preservation?”

“Why, the task you assigned to me, of course. Surely you have not forgotten about the aethersand? I tasked a passing adventurer with delivering it. A more capable courier I could not imagine. …”

It was then that the Miqo'te found his face intimately acquainted with the ground as he was bodily gripped, lifted and slammed violently into the dirt.

Carine gave a small squeak of surprise flinching backwards at the furious Au’Ra who seemed to have suddenly manifested in their center, one booted foot driven into the Miqo'te's back and keeping him pinned down.

“Next time you fancy playing hide-and-seek, little boy, pick someone else’s chain to pull.” Dainty snarled, aether flames whirling around her.

In her line of work unseen voices making her run hither and thither for their own motivation was more likely to be the work of the Ascians than a harmless prank. She’d taken no pleasure in being jerked around on her quest to fetch Rammbrows’ aethersand only to discover a stupid child was responsible for whispering at her from shadows.

“Dainty! Please!” Rammbroes panicked, flustered, trying to reassure the furious woman. “This is G'raha Tia, one of the Students of Baldesion! He has been assigned to the project as an observer! I…I hope you will forgive him his...eccentricities…. and welcome him as one of our own!”

“*cough* Did I not say we would meet again?” G’raha Tia offered weakly from the ground. “I meant no harm, I promise. I look forward to joining you on your ground-breaking expedition.”

There was clear reluctance on Dainty’s features but she slowly removed her foot from G'raha Tia’s back, allowing him to rise.

He dusted himself off firmly, beaming a smile at Dainty, apparently having learning absolutely nothing for having been knocked into the dirt; 

“So then, our fellowship is complete, and all stand ready to step into the unknown! Three cheers for NOAH!”

“Noah…?” Nero looked unimpressed, rapidly decided Dainty had had the right idea and that the Miqo’te needed to be clapped around the head a few more times until he calmed down.

“That is the name I have chosen for our little collective.” G'raha Tia announced, self-satisfied. “We cannot very well call ourselves the Sons of Saint Coinach, can we?”

At this he gave a little gesture to Carine and Dainty, who were very clearly not Sons of anything. Both gave him similarly unimpressed glares.

“You’re going to want to come up with a better reason than that.” Carine, who called herself a Son of Saint Coinach all the time offered, folding her arms.

“I just meant we have such diverse backgrounds! And we must have a memorable appellation if our venture is to leave its mark in the annals of history.” G'raha Tia chirped, completely oblivious to the fact he had given offense.

“Oh Seven Hells. Aren’t observers supposed to be silent?” Nero retorted.

“It is time we set forth to brave the outer defenses of the Crystal Tower.” Rammbroes insisted firmly before the idiot Miqo’te earned himself another mouthful of dirt. “Is everyone ready to depart?”  
As everyone chorus’d that they were ready only two voices remained silent.

Dainty, who did not speak much and Cid tol Garlond, who was rapidly trying to decide if an Alliance jail cell might have been preferable to this nonsense after all.


	2. TWO

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some days Nero nan Scaeva really doesn't know why he puts up with the Warrior of Light. Which is fitting as she doesn't know why she puts up with him most days.

“It’s a door. A fucking door! You know what doors are supposed to do? OPEN!” Nero seethed, glaring hatefully at the giant golden Allagans monstrosity blocking their ascent to the top of the Crystal Tower.

Somewhere up there was a new toy that he very much wanted to play with. His ambition burned in way it had not in decades, fueled by a long-forgotten rivalry with the white haired man behind him.

Nero’s company’s motto, Building a Better Future Through Technology absolutely including building him in particular the best future with the best technology. 

“You know what else they doors do? Close.” Dainty commented wryly, earning her a sharp look from Nero.

“Yes, thank you for that, Sassy Mcsasserson. Shut it.”

Dainty gave a little smirk but otherwise lapsed back into silence, tinkering with something in the corner as Nero raged at the giant door.

She was none the worse for her expedition into the Labyrinth of the Ancients, which Cid tol Garlond rather considered a pity. It might have been nice if one of the awakened Allagans security devices had removed her head and saved him the trouble.

It seemed that the Crystal Tower was not simply thrust above ground by the chaotic shifting of earth, it has somehow been re-awoken. 

Rammbroes had called for a delay of all further exploration and set Master Scaeva to the task of exhaustively surveying the mechanisms in hopes of returning them to dormancy with Cid tol Garlond as his unwilling, silent assistant.

Cid tol Garlond shook his head slightly at the pair of them, dislodging some of the slowly lengthening white locks and once again shoving them out of his eyes, swearing that the second he was out from under Nero’s thumb he was going to shave his head entirely.

He was grateful that G’raha Tia had begged off the back breaking chores with claims of needing to train his martial art skills, and the ever excitable Carine had headed back to camp to discuss progress with Rammbroes.  
Watching Carine and Nero awkwardly flirt was a torture Cid was glad to be spared for the moment.

To add to the food, the weather and the people that Cid tol Garlond already loathed he was rapidly deciding that NOAH could be added to that list.

Although technically his utter contempt for the collective could fall under the auspice of loathing the Eorzean people except for the fact that Nero was a fellow Garlean.  
Between Nero and G’raha Tia’s competing levels of arrogance and Carine’s continuing enthusiasm Cid tol Garlond’s patience was wearing rather thin.

Cid glanced at the silent Au’Ra.  
He dared not speak to her. 

She might not recognize his features, but he judged that there was a fair chance she would recognize his voice. The repercussions of that was not something he particularly wanted to deal with at that moment.

Dainty caught Cid’s glance out of the corner of her eye and turned her head toward him only the faintest amount. An almost imperceptible acknowledgement of his interest in her at that moment.  
A small smile caught her mouth, but she declined to speak.

“Any luck, Master Scaeva?” Rammbroes questioned, tone frustrated as he joined them earning him a similarly sour look from Nero as the one Dainty had received earlier.

“Does it fucking look like… oh! Hello, Miss Carine.” Nero’s demeanor instantly changed as G’raha Tia and Carine Montiel stepped out from behind Rammbroes’ massive form.

“I found this one meditating instead of helping and thought I might return him to where he is of best use.” Rammbroes commented, giving G’raha Tia a narrow eye’d look.

“If I am to witness this valiant tale unfold with mine own eyes, I needs must hone my martial skills ere we ascend the spire!” the miqo’te insisted.

“You'll do nothing of the sort, G'raha. Your knowledge may prove useful to Master Scaeva.”

“My knowledge on all things Allagans in unparalleled, I hardly think he will have anything of use to add.” Nero boasted, before dropping a glance at Cid that none noticed.

 _Well, perhaps not quite unmatched… ah, that rush of desire to best you in all things… how I have missed it, old friend. There is no finer motivation on this Star._

“As an observer, I am not, strictly speaking, subject to your authority.” G’raha Tia reminded Rammbroes, earning him a snort from Dainty; 

“By that measure neither am I and there is nought t’prevent me throwing you off the top of the spire ere we reach it to see if you bounce.”

“Pray do not mistake my intent, Dainty. I am well aware that I shall never be a match for one with your innate talents, however hard I train. Be that as it may, pray do not allow your skills to rust from disuse during the coming pause. We will need you fighting fit if our subsequent forays are to prove as productive as this one. Mark me: we have not yet caught more than the briefest glimpse of that which time has obscured. Soon, however, we shall cast off the veil, and gaze upon the glory of the Allagan Empire!”

“You can worry less about my skills and more about where my ax is about t’be parked if you keep….”

“Dainty, please!” Rammbroes begged throwing up an arm as if he had even the slightest degree of hope of blocking the Warrior if she really wanted to get to G’raha Tia. He rather suspected the Au’Ra was not joking and G’raha had utterly failed to perceive the terrible seriousness of Dainty’s words.

“Dainty, do you like persimmons?” Carine asked with a soft smile, stepping in front of the Au’Ra, blocking the woman’s vision of both Rammbroes and G’raha Tia. 

Despite her overly friendly demeanor Carine was not cloud headed as many assumed her to be. She was easily able to mince words with Rammbroes, keep up with Nero’s musings on the Allagans, and realize that Dainty ought be distracted from her ire before it could be provoked any further.

Carine offered the pretty auri a wicker basket full of the soft orange fruit “My sister sent me a care package from her garden and complete forgot I loathe persimmons! Violaine and my Mother love them and probably thought they were doing me such a kindness to send me so many of the best fruits. It would break my heart to watch them spoil.”

“I… would not say no.” Dainty conceded, taking a small handful of the offered fruit.

Fresh fruit was a rare treat for her, she was so often travelling, and fruit was too delicate to pack and transport in her rucksack over long distances.

Carine offered the basket to Cid tol Garlond and he selected a couple of the ripest looking morsels. Persimmons, imported from Doma, were a rare treat in Garlemald and he admitted to enjoying the soft, custard consistency fruit.

“None for you, wouldn’t want to ruin that martial artists physic now, would we?” Carine teased G’raha Tia before offering the last two persimmons to Nero. “Will you not have a snack, Master Scaeva?”

Nero was utterly unable to say no to that soft entreaty, or those violet eyes. 

“Thank you, Miss Carine.”

His fingers promptly stopped working for half a second as his mind was entirely focused on how soft her lips looked, leaving him fumbling to actually pick up the fruit.

 _Idiot!_ – Nero cursed himself but Carine gave him a soft smile which he answered in kind.

People who were so openly accepting of Garleans, even with his reputation, were rare. Carine had never failed to be kind and generous, not only to him but to all of the pure bloods in the Scaevan Ironworks.

Cid tol Garlond gave a snort of exasperated amusement at Nero’s antics and was surprised to hear a matched one from Dainty , turning to glance at her. The Au’Ra shot him a conspiratorial smile, eyes flicking in Carine and Nero’s direction before she rolled them. 

Cid gave an answering smirk, amused to see she found as much humor in the ridiculous situation as he did. His blue eyes lit on the fruit she had taken, noting that she had devoured almost all of it already.

She was on her last, and ate neatly but ravenously.

 _All that aether expended in the fight and when rations were dispensed she was given according to her size, not a Warrior who put down an entire maze of Allagans powered Sentries. She must be famished._ \- Cid frowned, like her he had been served according to his size and even half of his allotment was larger than the entirety of hers.

He suddenly recalled watching her slowly pick at the meager potion she had been given, he thought she must dislike the taste but now he wondered if she had not been trying to make it last. 

Perhaps for another being of her size her share would have been sufficient but for a Warrior who had performed the feats she had it had been a rather minuscule dinner. 

Nero had insisted that Dainty was not, as Cid tol Garlond had originally believed, a thirteen-year old and now the white haired, pure blooded Garlean was realizing that her lankiness was not due to youth but due to the fact that the woman was half starved.

_Little wonder she is so skinny. Yet she said not a word, this clearly happens regularly by the look of her. So why not speak up?_

The answer was obvious to him almost the second he questioned.  
Dainty would be well aware that, more often than not, there was not enough food to go around and would not want to take that which could satisfy someone else. 

Whilst ever she was being given enough to get by she would hold her words.

It was stomach churningly self-sacrificing and made Cid internally roll his eyes for what seemed like the millionth time that day, turning his back to the Au’Ra.

_Eorzea and their bloody noble heroes. I remain unconvinced they are not idiots to an absolute person._

The weight of the persimmons he had taken from Carine lingered in his hand, leaving Cid tol Garlond torn. _Let her starve, she is the imbecile choosing not to claim more food. Surely none would argue if she simply asked for more._

Yet a small, niggling tiny piece of conscious flickered to life from deep within the recesses of his heart that he had stomped it down into. He didn’t need the persimmons, he had had plenty of dinner and it would not be him facing whatever further Allagans security protocols they discovered within.

Nero wouldn’t let him have his weapons, making Carine and Dainty the only armed combatants of the party. 

Nero caught Cid eyeing the fruit in his hand and Dainty several times and cleared his throat meaningfully, eyes widening and giving the other man an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

_Don’t do it Garlond. Don’t you bloody talk to her… dammit!_

Cid tol Garlond smirked at Nero, his mind made up by a desire to get under the other man’s skin and he walked briskly to Dainty’s side, offering her the two persimmons he had yet to eat.

“It would seem you can use these more than I.”

Her eyes flicked up from to his face, dark purple with orange limbal rings, recognition swimming in them and confirming at once what Cid had earlier suspected. That she would perceive his identity from his voice the second he spoke.

“Much obliged.” Dainty offered, voice deep and deceptively calm, holding up her hands to accept the gift. “I don’t believe I caught your name.”

“Cid tol Garlond.” He answered honestly, knowing she had already realized it.

“Of course it is.” Dainty gently set down the persimmons with exacting care before her eyes slid past Cid to where Nero was watching them. He gave a small, ineffectively placating wave. “Pray excuse me one moment.” 

All deadly grace and sinuous movement Dainty walked up to where Nero still stood with Carine, gesturing with one finger for the much taller man to bend down to her level, as if she wished to whisper in his ear.

When Nero obliged she instead seized his ear savagely with a snarl, taking a death grip on the appendage.

“Ow! Ow! Leggo! Ow son of a bitch! ow ow …..!”

Dainty dragged him mercilessly away from the doors and the others, Nero complaining loudly the entire time, and behind one of the crystal formations so as their voices would not be carried by the still air before she finally released her grip.

“Why is there an Imperial running lose around Eorzea?” Dainty demanded, arms folded beneath her slender bust.

“He’s not an Imperial.” Nero soothed, holding up his hands placatingly, then moving one to his twisted ear, muttering: “was that really necessary?”

“He sure looked like one at the Praetorium, telling me he wanted to vivisect me to find the source of my power and use it to aid Lord Gaius in bringing my homeland to heel.” Dainty hissed angrily, eyes narrowed.

“He has some issues, don’t we all?” Nero offered with a grandiose shrug. Dainty stomped on his toes, provoking a yelp of pain. “Yike! Okay, okay look, I knew Cid Garlond back in Garlemald. We went to Magitek school together. We were friends, Dainty. What you saw at the Praetorium, that’s something grief made him do, it’s not the Garlond I know.”

“People change, Nero.”

“You’re going to try tell me, of all people, that tid-bit of information?” Nero snorted. “I was loyal once too, remember and have I ever let you down before?” 

Nero looked down at the diminutive warrior.  
Despite the fact he towered over her, fully 13 ilms taller than she, the weight of her palpable anger made him feel only 13 ilms tall in general.

Dainty’s lips twisted to the side, a small frown crinkling her brow and at once Nero knew he had scored a hit in the armor of her rage. Dainty had walls around her heart but they had been friends long enough that the canny, manipulative Nero knew how to manage the volatile auri by now. 

A small smile hovered over his lips. “I have always been there for the Scions, Dainty, you know this. Even when I could not remember my own name. All you needs do is trust me as I have ever trusted you.”

For a second Nero feared he was laying the guilt trip on her a little too thick but in a moment Dainty bit her lip, an uncharacteristic expression of tenderness transforming her features. 

She was reminded sharply of finding him, cloaked and amnesiac at the Church of Saint Adama Landama. “Marques’s” blond forelock flopping into his unfocused blue eyes. He had looked at her and Alphinaud with so much trust when they asked for his help.

She gave an acquiescing nod, her eyes meeting his again but with concern in them, not anger.  
She knew not what he was playing at, concealing Cid tol Garlond’s presence among the other Garlean defuncts of the Scaevan Ironworks but she would trust that he knew what he was about.

Nero gave her a charming, beguiling smile holding his arms open for a hug.

Dainty punched him straight in the solar plexus, winding him and causing him to bend double and gasp for air.

“That is for not warning me.” She snarled, her momentary kindness instantly gone, muttering; “Tis entirely your fault that I thought an Imperial was cute.”

“I will take blame ….for not telling you sooner but…. anything after that…. is your own terrible taste. I mean really…. those boots with…. *cough*… that top?” Nero wheezed, holding a hand to his gut.

Dainty stomped back to her persimmons.


	3. THREE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps getting the door open wasn't the wisest option, all things considered.

“It seems like this could have gone better, if I’m honest!” Carine commented, swinging her bow around lithely and losing a volley of arrows into the clones that winked into existence around them.

“Dainty? Come on, get up!” Nero urged but the Au’Ra was completely unable, struggling weakly to even keep her eyes open. “Dammit!”

Three of the strange, glow-eyed clone entities manifested around him. 

Despite being an Engineer by trade Nero was not without fighting prowess, ducking the blow of the first and blocking another from the second before dispatching them quickly with a swipe of a vicious looking bladed claw hammer.

The third was dispelled by gunfire from Cid tol Garlond before it could fell Nero with a fire spell.

Nero looked at his old friend, seeing that the man had acquired a rudimentary gunblade as well as a hip blaster.

“I thought I took your weapons.” Nero scowled, wondering how the other man had been concealing them.

“You thought.” Cid tol Garlond smirked, taking out a brace of the voidsent controlled beings with a precise and devastating skill. His years in the Imperial Army had left him a dangerous force on the battlefield despite being without his magitek armor.

“By the Twelve! Is there no end to them?!” Carine burst out, frustrated as 2 more clones seemed to manifest for each one the put down.

They had managed to get the doors open, and a great deal more besides that.

Once the two living Allagans keys named Unei and Doga had shown up the great golden door that had frustrated Nero so had opened quite obediently.

Unfortunately it had opened to reveal and dark secret that should have been left buried.

Emperor Xande, reborn from the grave by cloning and driven mad by his fears of death had consorted with darkness and made a covenant with a powerful voidsent known as the Cloud of Darkness.  
Through his blood a portal to its lair, the World of Darkness, had been opened and in return for armies of voidsent to do his will, namely, returning the earth to absolute nothingness, the voidsent were free to sup upon the aether rich lands.

Unei and Doga, clones themselves of Xande’s rebellious descendants, had attempted to undo this covenant and instead had unleashed voidsent Hell.

“Dainty! Pull yourself together!” G’raha Tia scolded.

“Pull your head out your ass!” Carine retorted with a snarl. “That’s a void portal and she’s a blessing of _light_ , you moron! T’is a testament to her will that she didn’t fall into an irrevocable coma the moment it manifest!”

“Doga!!” Unei’s shriek caught their attention, causing them to dare risk looking away from the clones in time to see Doga being sucked into the portal.

“Godsdammit, without them there’s no way for me to control the tower!” Nero realized, surging up from where he had been protecting Dainty and sprinting for the Allagans duo.

Two voidsent fell to his hammer as he went, fully shoulder checking a third and managing to catch hold of Unei just as she was gripped and lifted by the same dark void tendrils that had taken possession of Doga.

The void protested this, clawing at Unei’s clothes before, in all in a rush, decided if Nero meant to retain his grip on Unei then the void would simply take him too.

“Nero!” Carine gasped but on the clear other side of the room there was no hope of interfering, if she were even capable of it. 

In a great purple and black rush Nero and Unei were sucked into the void, the rift hissing closed behind them.

A vast and terrible silence filled the room. Those of the voidsent clones that remained merely dropping to the floor, useless, nothing more than puppets that had had their strings cut.

 _Now is my chance_ \- Cid tol Garlond realized, fingers still curled around the handle of his gunblade. 

G’raha Tia and Carine were rooted in place, shell shocked by this turn of events. The Warrior of Light was little more than a half starved, weakened Au’Ra, holding a hand to her head and trying to fight down the slowly abating dizziness. 

A blast would put down the first two, his blade would make swift work of the third.

It would be hours before anyone thought to come looking for them. He could be on a transport through Coerthas, making a break for Imperial territory by then.

Despite Gaius’ plans with the Ultima Weapon failing to come to fruition, and their all being labelled traitors for their unsanctioned actions Cid tol Garlond had no doubt he would be welcomed home once more.

Able to boast of the deaths of the Traitor, Nero nan Scaeva and the Warrior of Light, Hells, they might just about throw him a damn parade.

Just two steps, and the application of his blade to her exposed back. That’s all it would take.

She deserved no less. She who killed Rhitahtyn, and Livia, and Gaius.

His grip on the blade tightened, blue eyes narrowing as his anger rose, the Garlean blue gaze lingering on Dainty, sitting on the ground, her hair falling around her as her head hung.

The XIVth, and its Legatus had been the last shreds of family Cid told Garlond had been able to claim. He was literally the last of his name, his parents long dead and no siblings to boast of. 

Gaius Baelsar, friend, mentor and guiding hand, had been the closest thing Cid had to true kin and he had clung to that that tenuous connection with all his might. Even if he didn’t always agree with Gaius’ choices, or motivations.  
Cid tol Garlond was loyal to Gaius, even in death. There were no better way to honor the man’s memory than to rid the world of his murderer.

Yet, if he struck Dainty down, who would stop the Cloud of Darkness?

Not Garlemald, certainly. Cid knew that absolutely. 

Carine had made the comment earlier that Allagans Monstrosities had almost doomed their realm twice and it was true, although lacking in 1 critical detail.

The hands that wielded those ancient super weapons, in each instance, were Garlean.

The power of the Crystal Tower was unarguably the rival of Ultima Weapon, and there would be many in the Empire only too willing to continue doing deals with Voidsent in order to harvest its power.

“Ser…?” Carine’s soft voice pulled Cid tol Garlond back to the here and now, concerned in her tone, seeing that the white-haired man was glaring at Dainty, and had yet to put down his weapons. “…between G’raha Tia and myself we understand the theory of how to re-power the Tower and open the rift but t'is likely operating the experimental engine Master Scaeva were working on will be well beyond our meager skills.”

They knew not what he was, looking at him with such hope that he would be able to assist them in rescuing the others. 

Despite the fact he had not yet made up his mind what to do the weight of their expectations and hope was making him want to help rescue the others.

The little flicker of conscious that had awoken earlier, when giving Dainty the extra persimmons, was whispering pervasively in his mind;

_No need to kill the Warrior of Light, at least not yet. It would be smarter to wait until the Cloud of Darkness had been resolved and the Tower restored to a dormant state, at the very least. Neither Garlean nor Eorzean hands ought wield its dark power._

“I am sure it will not be beyond me.” Cid tol Garlond replied in a voice that did not sound like his own, holstering his weapons.

“Dainty, will you be alright?” Carine questioned, worried as the woman finally managed to pull herself to her feet.

“I needs must be. I cannot allow Nero to be lost to the void.” Dainty replied instantly, no hint of falter to her voice. 

Carine gave a sad little smile;

“As much as I am loathed to return to camp without the others we had best inform Rammbroes of what has occurred.”

 

 _Nero, you’ve had some poor ideas in your life but honestly, this might just about have won it._

The unconscious Unei in his arms he and Doga were making their way over to the platform where, not moments ago, the Cloud of Darkness had disappeared into screaming nothingness.

Nero knew not who had vanquished the mammoth Voidsent but could take a guess that it was Dainty.

And, now that he thought about it, he believed he could hear that idiot G’raha Tia caterwauling loudly.

“Unei! Doga! Where are you? Nero?”

“Must you be so infernally loud.” Nero demanded, stepping onto the platform and announcing the trio’s presence. “Do you want to attract more voidsent?…. Though I don’t blame you for missing my company.”

“Nero!” Dainty whirled, horrified, taking in his corrupted form. 

Voidcrystals riddled his body, once blue eyes now pale violet and his features were marked in lilacs and blues.

Each vein on his wrists and hands pulsed with black, no matter how tenderly he carried Unei.

“Oh relax, she only passed out.” Nero gave a light smirk, as if completely oblivious to the fact his hair was more crystalloid than keratin at this point. He set Unei down gently as Dainty and G’raha Tia moved over to them.

“What happened to you?” Dainty demanding, not giving two particular shits for Unei’s state in wake for Nero’s.

“Although being of Xande’s bloodline gives us a measure of protection from the corruption of this place it does not protect us from the voidsent that dwell here. The Cloud imprisoned us here and sent wave upon wave. Had Nero not protected us so valiantly, we would surely be dead. Alas, his wounds were too deep and allowed this foul place entry to his body. The darkness now claws at the aether of his very form. Would that we could have protected him.” Doga offered in regretful tones.

“That royal blood of yours allows you to control the tower. You are no use to anyone as a voidsent snack.” Nero snorted. “Lest of all me. Now. How the Seven Hells do we get out of here?”

**Mortals! You dare challenge me here, in my realm?! You shall feel my wrath! I am the cloud of Darkness and here I…am…. eternal! I will smother your light and entomb your bones in darkness!**

This shriek roused Unei as the others looked around, wary, trying to ascertain from which direction the Cloud of Darkness might attack.

A bolt of pure darkness shot across the platform, only narrowly missing G’raha Tia whose tail fluffed up in fight and alarm.

“Are we so powerless here?” he yelped.

“In this realm, I fear so. Yet the Cloud is weak and barely able to hold form. We cannot stop her but mayhap we can sever Xande’s covenant yet.” Doga realized, vermilion eyes burning as a plan started to form in his mind.

“Yes. If we strike now we may be able to raze the bridge between this foul place and the Crystal tower.” Unei realized, rising to her feet with help from Nero. “Dainty, G’raha, Nero, you must flee!”

“You both mean to stay? You and Doga?! This is madness. Only those with royal blood can control the Crystal Tower and save the world from its threat!” G’raha Tia insisted.

“Not so. You too possess a vermilion eye. What you call an Allagans Eye is truly a Royal Eye. Xande’s blood yet runs in your line.” Unei corrected. “Although the chances of a man yet living with his forebears’ blood in his veins, after time consumed all else of Allag can be no coincidence.”

“Someone must have planted this gift in your line, to hide it and keep it safe for the future and used the Highest of Allagans technology to do it.” Doga agreed. “The fact that you made it here safely, alongside Dainty, despite having not her innate gifts proves that your authority to control the Crystal Tower has been recognized by the Cloud of Darkness, G’raha Tia.” 

“And now we needs must ensure the Crystal Tower does also, for it will not perceive you as Allagans. Not as you are.” Unei explained. She and Doga exchanged a glance before each raising a hand and summoning each a small sliver on their own aether, stained red with their blood.

That which was once granted to them by their progenitors and originals they now shared with G’raha Tia, a bright, heavy glow momentarily surrounding his body and burning the green out of his left eye, making both orbs brilliant, blood red.

“And now, you must all run.” 

“Agreed. Dainty, Nero… let us quit this place.” G’raha nodded.

Dainty and Nero shared a quick glance and took off running in almost perfect synchronization.

The bridge, comprised of little more than voidsent energy was formed in eldritch swirls and razor thin, looking as if it could barely support the weight of a spider, let alone 3 grown adults charging across it.

Ahead of them the darkness gave way to bright blue, a pulsing oval of light piercing through the dark as a beacon.

Albeit one that was fading before their eyes.

“The light! It grows faint.” G’raha Tia observed needlessly. 

“Do you ever shut-up?” Dainty snapped.

She normally wouldn’t waste her breath but the Miqo’te had been on her last nerve since he had arrived and his statement of the obvious pleased her not. 

She took no joy in leaving friends to their deaths, despite Unei and Doga making it very clear that they considered this their sole purpose for having been created by the originals and gifted them their will and blood.

Unfortunately for Dainty G’raha tended to be one of those people who spoke his thoughts as they occurred to him, leaving him gasping as he realized;

“The annulment of the covenant is working! The bridge will fade as that light does. Hurry! If that lights dies we are stranded here! Hurry!”

The command was all well and good but Nero was damned if he could make his feet obey it. With each step felt his legs felt more wooden, like he were wading through thick mud.

_No yet, dammit not now. NOT HERE!_

His body, so corrupted and weakened was failing him. Despite forcing himself another few steps by sheer force of will it was no good. The darkness that had taken hold of his aether was protesting his attempts to escape.

He fell clumsily to his knees.

“Nero! No. You must move!” G’raha shouted, looking back as Dainty spun on her heel, sprinting back to Nero’s side.

“Get up, Nero.” She snarled, taking a grip under one arm, fully determined to pull him if she needed to.

“Leave me! I don’t need you. If I die here it’s because I decided to!” 

“You really think that narcissistic attempt to be noble will work on me?” Dainty seethed, recognizing in an instant his was an attempt to push her away in order to see her safely through the portal. She instead wrapped her arms around his shoulders, flinging her head back to look at G’raha Tia. “Go. Master the tower.”

"May the crystal tower yet be a beacon of hope… for mankind."

“Unei and Doga speak through my blood…t’is almost done… we must go!” G’raha Tia begged.

“Run, G’raha.” Dainty ordered. Red eyes met purple and orange ones, a nod of understanding passed between them before the Miqo’te turned tail, and ran.

“Dainty… go, damn you! This realm yet needs you!” Nero demanded.

“Then you better get up.” Dainty replied, making it very clear she was going nowhere without him. She resumed yanking on his arm, managing to pull him half a pace by sheer strength alone. “You know, I bet Carine will make out with you a bit to see you safe once more.”

Two stubborn, unbreakable wills met, neither willing to yield for even an ilm.

“Argh!” Nero managed to haul himself to his feet as G’raha Tia disappeared safely into the light. “Must keep moving onwards. Th-this is not where I…come to rest.”

Dainty was pulling at him still, dragging and coaxing, her back to the light. His body glowed and pulsed suddenly, inexplicably, drawing looks of concern from himself and Dainty both.

In a sudden rush, accompanied by the sound of breaking crystals and glass the corruption staining his body fell away, restoring his flesh to normal tones and his hair to blond.

“But how did…oh! They did it after all.” Nero realized.

“Don’t you bloody start with the monologuing.” Dainty warned. “Onwards!”

They burst into movement, sprinting for the portal in sync.  
It took only a faintest of seconds for Nero the realize that while he might make it, Dainty would not. 

He was so much taller than her, his stride so much longer. He could cover twice the distance she could in the same amount of time. With one massive surge of strength, born of desperation and pure Garlean tenacity Nero gripped Dainty by the wrist and fully hurled her through the dwindling, glowing portal.

All his momentum was poured into the throw, sending him stumbling back a step into inertia, losing precious nanoseconds between him and making it to the portal. 

A few more steps, legs burning, desperately trying to get his stride and speed back before leaping out into nothingness and the bridge began to cease to exist beneath his feet.

He was going to make it, he was going to make it. The light ebbed once, he was going to make it.

He wasn’t going to make it.

“aaaaaaaaaahhhhh!!!!!”

An arm manifest out of the sliver of light than remained, offering salvation. Thick and muscular and catching Nero’s wrist in an unbreakable death grip even as his feet dangled perilously out over a void of nothing.

It belonged, most inexplicably, to the large blue and black Scaevan uniformed form of Cid tol Garlond, blue eyes smirking at him, fingers gripping into Nero’s flesh.

“You owe me, Nero.” 

“The Hells I do.”

Hazily Dainty looked up at the top of the Crystal Tower, flat on her back where she had come to rest after bouncing a couple times from being flung like a shot put by a blond Garlean Engineer.

“You are returned unharmed! Thank the Gods!” Rammbroes boomed.

“Nero!” Dainty sat bolt upright, utterly ignoring the Sons of Saint Coinach who lingered around her.

“Over here.” Nero commented sardonically, slowly hauling himself into a sitting position from where he had been sprawled terribly ungracefully after being yanked to safety by Cid tol Garlond. 

“You stubborn pig headed, narcissistic, nit-witted, megalomaniac!” Dainty scrambled towards the Nero with an uncharacteristic haste, making him cringe, flinging up his hands defensively;

“Don’t hit, don’t hit!…..oh….”

Dainty hugged him tightly instead, earning a soft bark of laughter from Nero before her put his arms around her slender form. 

He’d take hugs over getting smacked in the head, reveling in the fact that they were friends enough to embrace in such a manner. There were few people indeed who could boast true friendship with the hyper violent, stoic Primal Slayer, after all.

She released him after a moment, rising slowly to her feet and smacked Nero in the back of the head as he too rose, adding;

“That’s for flinging me like a bleeding ragdoll.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Nero snorted. He knew that was coming sooner or later, then winced, holding a hand to his ribs momentarily and when he pulled his hand away his palm was bright red with blood.

He had sustained several wounds protecting Unei and Doga and now, without the darkness sealing them by using them as an entrance to his form all his blood was attempting to use them as an exit.

“Healer!” Rammbroes yelled as Nero swayed on his feet.


	4. FOUR

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nero puts up with Dainty better than most but Carine puts up with Nero the best.

“hhmmm… I appear to be alive. How terribly uncouth of me.” Nero observed to what appeared to be an empty tent lit with candles 

The last thing he remembered was a sudden pain in his side and his palm being painted red with his own blood.

“I keep dragging you into the most potentially fatal adventures and you just keep on surviving.” Dainty commented sardonically, resting booted feet on the end of the medibay cot he had been laid out upon and enjoying a large chocolate chip cookie.

“It is the Garlean blood, we are worse than wood roaches.” Nero retorted checking to make sure all his limbs were intact and pleased to see that they were.

“You ain’t kidding.” Dainty laughed, her relaxed demeanor and the fact she had changed clothing to a set of quilted, half armor war leathers suggested she had been running missions, and that a passage of time was greater than simply day to night had occurred while he lingered in unconsciousness, leading Nero to ask;

“How long did I languish here?”

“2 moons. You lost a good deal more blood than you ought to have.”

“Not on purpose I didn’t.” Nero replied. Then shook his head and sighed. “Garlond took off the second I was absent to keep him leashed, I assume?”

“He might’ve tried, had I not linkshelled the other Scions to inform them of his existence. He has been made aware that whilst ever he wears the Ironworks Uniform we’ll hold our piece. Out of respect for Nero nan Sceava, of course.” Dainty replied, tone ruthless. 

She might trust Nero nan Scaeva but she did not trust Cid tol Garlond an ilm and she remembered his threats of vivisection all too vividly to treat the man with anything above ill restrained hostility.

“Ha! I bet that pleased him not.”

“I may have been told to go fornicate with myself and summarily informed he ought to have put his blade through my back at his earliest convenience.” Dainty admitted, utterly unphased by this. “But let us speak of a much more pleasant subject.”

“Oh?”

“Miss Carine Monteil. She made you cookies, Nero and has been oh-so-pouty since you’ve been sleeping.” Dainty teased, smiling broadly, the candle light orange on her limbal rings fairly glowing the in firelight.

“The cookies you are currently eating?” Nero asked, utterly unimpressed as Dainty helped herself to another. She grinned. “Why are we friends, Dainty? You are actually awful.”

Dainty laughed and made no denials;

“Now, now, Nero, do not change the subject. When are you going to stop making eyes at her and actually ask out the pretty Elezen?”

Nero sighed and ran a hand over his face tiredly. Despite the fact that Dainty kept referring to him as having been “sleeping” it certainly hadn’t been restful to languish in unconsciousness the way he had. 

“There’s no point.”

“Don’t you dare give me that she’ll never love a Garlean woe-is-me stupidity that your subordinates waffle on about.” Dainty wagged a cookie at him.

“Oh for…. I am entirely too egocentric for that and we both know it.” Nero snapped, desiring to get up. “Where’s my pants?”

Dainty handed them to him and turned her back to give him privacy to dress.

“So then what is the major malfunction, other than your sparkling personality?”

“Carine Montiel is a Son of Saint Coinach. She is employed here. Once the Crystal Tower is rendered dormant, I will no longer be employed here. Meaning I will move on, wherever the next job takes me or the next unearth relic calls me. As had always been the way with those who sell services for hire. Were I anything but Garlean, and able to quick travel by Atheryte, perhaps it would not so insurmountable, but I am not, so here we are.”

Dainty bit her lip.

She could not argue with this assessment. Atheryte travel, although a wondrous breakthrough in Sharlayan technology that allowed almost instantaneous movement, it was not without its draw backs.

For one, only those possessed of a large excess of aether could use them for anything other than moving small distances around their cities. Even a trip from Mor Dhona to Ul’Dah, the closest major hub, would weaken most people noticeably and require hours of rest before a return trip could even be attempted.

Such a method of transportation would not be so bad if both parties could trade off the strain of it equally but Nero, unable to manipulate his aether in exchange for the preternatural spatial awareness that made him such an incredibly gifted Engineer, could not do so.

“Regarding the Tower, G’raha Tia has closed it up, returning it and himself as its sole occupant to slumber until such time as mankind has already reached and exceeded its heights.”

“Oh that is just fabulous. How am I supposed to exceed the Allagans without access to some of their most cutting edge technology?” Nero groused.

Dainty gave a soft laugh:

“Not my Syrcus, not my miqo’te.”

Nero threw a cookie at her in disgust at her terrible pun, just in time for Carine to poke her head around the tent flap, having heard the voices.

“Oh… are the cookies that bad? I know I’m not even close to the cook my mother is but I thought they were alright.”

“No, no, they are lovely. I thank you for them… I …uh….” Nero babbled.

“I was just leaving.” Dainty rose to her feet, snagging another cookie for the road and assuring Carine. “They are delicious.”

“Uhm, thank you.” Carine’s violet eyes followed Dainty out before returning to Nero.

She could not for the life of her figure out their dynamic. 

She was reasonably sure they were not dating, just very good friends.

Nero flirted with her all the time, right in front of Dainty, in fact. 

Surely the Garlean would not do so if he was involved with the Raen woman.

Yet other times Carine wasn’t entirely sure if there was not at least an unresolved longing between them, and perhaps that was why Nero never asked herself out despite her many obvious hints that she would say yes if he did.

“I’m glad to see you recovered.” Carine offered.

“Mostly.” Nero concurred, sitting hazily on the end of the bed and feeling rather thick-witted. He knew exactly why he turned into a blithering idiot around Carine but that didn’t mean he enjoyed the sensation.

Carine gave a little clear of her throat, trying to decide how best to start before tossing her hair and watching the way Nero’s blue eyes lingered on it, just to reassure herself she was doing the right thing.

That she wasn’t imagining the chemistry between them.

“Rumor has it that the Scaevan Ironworks has recently taken on a very dangerous former Tribunus…”

“Tis lies, I assure you. They are all nothing by harmless engineers, I vet them personally.” Nero hand waved that away quickly.

“I believe you,” Carine assured him, “But the thing is harmless Engineers aren’t terribly good at combat. It did take 2 healers a full hour to put your guts back together, Master Scaeva. I doubt an angry herd of Ala Mhigan refugees, such as those that linger in Ul’Dah, are likely to be any more placated by your reassurances than a wave of voidsent were.”

Nero’s lips thinned as he pursed them, frowning into one hand momentarily.

She was not entirely incorrect. 

The hatred he had faced when he first arrived in Eorzea played heavily in Nero’s mind.

Only the Scions had truly cared that he was trying to prevent a Calamity. That he was trying to assist them in any way that he could to avert the terrible devastation his countrymen thought to inflict upon the land. To all else he was just another Garlean, to be spat at and tarred with the same brush as those still loyal to the Empire.

It was five years on and his work in Eorzea had changed many minds but he would wager the recent inclusions upon the lands by the XIVth was likely to kick up some ugly attitudes in those who did not perceive the difference between a Garlean and an Imperial.

Nero was suddenly not so sure the weight of his name and reputation would keep the Scaevan Ironworks safe. Especially when he could not know where they might end up next. 

Currently the majority of them were safe in Mor Dhona, working on customer projects while he ventured into the Syrcus Tower but it would not be long before the workshop was packed up and they moved on.

“You need me, Nero….” Carine continued, almost fully purring his name.

He felt that purr in his aforementioned gut. She had said his name ever so perfectly, dropping her voice on the “e” instead of letting it slide up into a hard nasal tone the way most Eorzeans did.

His eyes flashed up to hers and she curled one lock of hair around an elegant finger, twirling it with a little grin, knowing full well doing so would at least slow down his response time, if not leaving him stumbling to reply at all. “…You saw my skills at the top of the Tower and I work cheap. Just $1000 gil a week for your very own Security Detail for the Scaevan Ironworks. I even come with my own bow.”

She was also correct on both those points, such a meager sum was cheap, and not above a price he could pay despite the Ironworks’ coffers often being more empty than full.

“Good! Then its decided. I shall pack my things and plan to join the Ironworks ere you depart for more lucrative shores.” Carine announced happily before Nero had a chance to speak, dropping her hair. She gave her new “boss” a quick bow and marched herself successfully out of the medi-tent.

Leaving Nero still fumbling for a reply and sincerely glad that neither Dainty nor Garlond were around to watch that rather spectacular display of Nero getting utterly played.

 

Cid tol Garlond watched as the Warrior of Light sauntered her way to the edge of camp, whistling for her chocobo and, when the golden bird trotted neatly to her side, she leapt up into the saddle and set out for the horizon in a swift run.

His lip curled in disgust.

 _If I never see you again it will be far too bloody soon._ \- Cid to Garlond sneered at her back, blue eyes narrowed and thinking again he really ought to have ended her when he had the chance.

For a while he had been unsure how to feel about the Warrior of Light, wavering back a forth between hating her and a grudging respect.  
Her abilities could not be denied, they had bested him and the penultimate weapon he had created, after all, killing Gaius van Baelsar in the processes.

Yet there was a fragility about her that Cid tol Garlond could not reconcile for someone of her strength, buried deeply beneath her silence, and hearing G’raha Tia speak of the way Dainty refused to leave Nero behind in the darkness had left Cid tol Garlond questioning if he could fault her for her loyalty.

How could he, when he had been so utterly loyal to Gaius all these years.

Was Dainty’s loyalty to her realm truly that different from his loyalty to his own and, if the situation were reversed, would not he had done everything in his very real power to prevent Garlemald’s invasion and occupation.

Her imperiously informing him that the Scions of the Seventh Dawn knew his identity thanks to her and that it was only because of Nero that they were not offering Cid up to the Alliance to be put on trial for Ultima Weapon had soundly swung Cid tol Garlond back to loathing Dainty, however.

He stomped into his tent, wishing that she would fall off her stupid, ugly chocobo and snap her stupid, wretchedly thin little neck.  
An addition to the room that had not been there earlier instantly caught his eye, laying innocuously on his pillow. 

A set of Nero’s Engineer’s goggles, specifically designed to disguise the Garlean third eye while not actually covering it or inhibiting its sensory sight. 

The red lenses had been skillfully removed and replaced with much more sensible blue lenses that would counteract the glare of magitek rather than clash with the blue glow the machines tended to produce.

A deep frown crinkled his forehead as he pushed his stubborn white locks out of his eyes. 

As if it wasn’t bad enough at being told to grow his hair long, and grow an itchy, infuriating beard, and being forced to wear possibly the ugliest uniform in existence, now the barely ambulatory Nero was also insisting upon further wardrobe alterations.

Cid tol Garlond screwed up his nose as he considered the goggles before, as he ever had, deciding that it was at least better than an Alliance jail cell.

But only just.


	5. FIVE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A betrayal and a midnight rescue.

_Run, Dainty…. T’is the only way._

She hated this.  
She hated leaving people behind when she could yet still fight.

First Yda and Papalymo, then Y’Shtola and Thancred, now even Minfilia.

Yet to turn back would be to disrespect their agency, each in turn had chosen to sacrifice, to fight on, even though doing so risked capture and worse so that Dainty would not have to.

_Run, Dainty… T’is the only way._

Minfilia’s final words to her echoed in her mind as the sounds of her footfalls echoed through the tunnels.

 _Turn back, don’t abandon them._ – a soft, pervasive little voice whispered in her mind but she pushed it down brutally. 

She knew what she was, the Scions knew what she was. Above all else, above being an Au’Ra, above being Dainty, above being their friend, she was a weapon.

A weapon that must never fall into the wrong hands. 

A weapon that must always remain free to choose her own battles lest she be used to shatter the fragile peace within the realm. Too quickly could too much chaos be wrought upon the land if the Warrior of Light’s power were able to be controlled be someone other than the Warrior of Light herself.

Someone like Lord Lolorito or Teledeji Adeleji.

This was why the Scions sacrificed themselves to ensure she made it to freedom. 

They could be imprisoned, arrested, beaten and tortured but they could not be used against their fellow man.

Dainty could. She could be blackmailed into fighting unjust battles, lest her friends be further harmed. And this was why she ran.

Despite the fact she hated it with every fiber of her slender being. 

She cleared the edge of the tunnel, exiting Ul’Dah somewhere near the Blue Badger gate and sprinting quickly for the surrounding hills, eager to lose any tail she might yet have acquired, or shake off any prying eyes tracking her from the guard towers on the over bearing city walls.

Unbidden her eyes moved to the left, a look of sorrow crossing her delicate, scaled features.

Some small part of her had held onto the tiniest glimmer of hope that as she cleared the Sil’Dah tunnels to safety she might have heard the footfalls of her friends behind her.

That they would not be captured, and were only just a few paces behind her the entire time, their bootfalls disguised by her own and the panicked heartbeat pounding in her ears.

The only sound that greeted her as she drew to a stop was that of the nocturnal animals and insects that lived in the desert surrounding Ul’Dah. Crickets chirping all around her as if they were completely unaware that her heart was breaking.

Noise to her left, the crush of footfalls but far too small and light to be heavily armored Brass Blades or Crystal Braves. Her hand strayed to her ax but didn’t draw it.

Not yet.

Her hesitation proved fortuitous as it was Alphinaud Leveilluer, masked and hooded, that sprinted into view, a similarly masked Lalafell that Dainty could not name at his side.

“My friend!” he gasped, relieved to see Dainty, before instantly realizing she was alone. “What of the others?”

Dainty shook her head, unable to force the words out lest tears come too.   
She would not cry.   
She would not.

She was a Warrior of Rhalgr. 

She was stone and steel and death and she Would. Not. Cry.

“Dammit it all to Hells.” Alphinaud cursed uncharacteristically, realizing he had been played for an utter fool.

“There’s no time for this. We must put some malms between us and Ul’Dah.” The Lalafell spoke, clearly used to giving orders as his tone was authoritative despite his diminutive size. “There!”

An outstretched arm, chubby but no less capable of wielding a blade than any of other Gladiator, his subligar marked him as one, Dainty noted, despite her wits being quite shattered by the nights events.

A chocobo pulled carriage ranged into view, a familiar blond head leaning out from the deck and hanging onto the ropes of the lighter than air gas filled bladder that kept the cargo portion aloft.

“Well, would you look who it is! Need a ride?” Brennen asked, shooting a smile at Dainty. “I doubt it’ll be half as exciting as the last trip we took – not if I have anything to say about it.”

The sounds booted feet and torches being lit ringing down from the walls of Ul’Dah as the combined weight of the Brass Blades and the traitorous Crystal Braves spilled out of the city in search of them interrupted any reply Dainty could give. “Let’s not dawdle then.”

None needed further encouragement.   
It would not be long before those that hunted them closed in.

Alphinaud jumped up first, followed by his companion and Dainty bringing up the rear. Brennen gave a sharp whistle to the driver, who instantly set the massive draft chocobos into a blistering run.

Dainty sank into a seat, relieved to be putting space between her and the Brass Blades. They were safe now, those that hunted them were on foot, with no chance of keeping pace with Chocobos let alone catching up to a fresh, well rested set with their legs under them and a long head start.

“Gods but I am glad to see you.” Alphinaud admitted, sinking into a seat, defeat clinging to every onze of the Elezen boys’ form as the Lalafell took a position at the rear of the carriage, hands on hips, surveying behind them on the very, very rare chance of them picking up a tail. “But how on earth did you know exactly where to find us?”

“I were picking up supplies in Vesper Bay when your sister came up and begged a favour. Said her brother was having a spot of bother in Ul’Dah an’ likely needed a helping hand gettin’ away. Thinkin’ the ruins would make a fine hiding spot I decided to try there first and lo- there you were! Judging by the soldiers pouring out of the city I arrived not a moment too soon!” Brennen explained.

“Gods, I’ve made such a mess of things.” Alphinaud lamented, hunching further in on himself. 

Brennen looked at the silent Dainty, finding her fully stone faced, eyes utterly unreadable. 

He had known the auri since she was a teenager, having met her when she was pulled from the ruins of her Family’s farm, the sole survivor of an unfortunate cernuleum accident.

It was his cart that had transported her to Moraby Drydocks for medical attention, and again his cart that had taken her, silent as she was now, to Limsa Lominsa for the very first time to begin training at the Mauraders Guild.

Idly Brennen wondered if her memory had ever returned to her, given she was still using the moniker “Dainty” he doubted it. 

Dainty had not been able to recall her name and after being constantly referred to as “dainty girl” for her diminutive size and delicate mannerisms by the Roegadyn Maelstrom stationed at Moraby Drydocks the name had stuck.

Now was not the time to ask, however and Brennen instead turned to the 3rd member of the silent trio.

“An’ who might you be, young sir?”

The Lalafell glanced behind him, realizing he was being hailed before turning sharply, removing his helmet to reveal cherubim like features and long grey hair.

“Pipin Taurpin. Vice Marshall of the Immortal Flames.”

“Pipin… ain’t that the name of General Aldynn’s lad?” Brennen frowned.

“Aye. I’m his son. Adopted, of course. It was in due course of averting Master Alphinaud’s unjust imprisonment that I learned of my Fathers’ capture by the Monetarists. Once I have seen you all a safe distance away I meant to return to the city and extricate my Father from this madness.”

“Then you needs go no further than Black Bush. Our fugitives have friends waiting there.”

This caught Dainty’s attention, causing her to look up in surprise, thinking that everyone she could name as friend at that moment had been lost within Ul’Dah or was within the carriage with her.

“I dreamed of bringing about Eorzea’s salvation.” Alphinaud mumbled into his knees, utterly crestfallen. “but in the end, t’was I who needed saving.”

Dainty supposed she ought to try comfort the lad, for all his lofty goals and titles he was still a youth of 16. 

Not much older than she herself had been when life dealt her its first shattering blow, destroying any childish, idealistic innocence she might have once had. 

Although she empathized with Alphinaud kindness was not something that came naturally to the Warrior.

Perhaps once, when her Family still lived, she had known what it was to be gentle and tender but although the passing of years had taught her to be loyal, and strong it had not taught her be kind.

The miles slipped by, each in the carriage silent, and lost in thought.

Brennen set the trio down just shy of Black Brush station with a confident smiling, reassuring them;

“Them soldiers will keep searching for a while yet. Reckon we’ll take the carriage back towards Ul’Dah, an’ get the lay of the land – mayhaps provide a distraction if needs be. You three wait here. Help’ll be along shortly.” 

“Thank you, Brennen.” Dainty managed the first time she had spoken in fully hours and her throat a little hoarse for it.

The carriage turned and was born away by its chocobo engine, leaving the trio in silence once more. 

“Father spoke of you often, Dainty. I dreamed of meeting you although not under circumstances such as these.” Pipin offered the grim Au’Ra who gave him only a cursory nod. “And Alphinaud, you must not fall into despair. While ever you and Dainty remain free all can be set a right. You will see.”

“Alphinaud Leveilleur. What sort of cockeye’d mess have you gotten yourself into this time?” A cold, arrogant voice asked from the shadows.

For all its tone it belonged, as Brennen had predicted, to a friend.

“Nero!” Alphinaud turned, taking in the tall Garlean man who sauntered casually across the nearby bridge that divided them across a sharp ravine from Black Brush. “What are you doing here?”

“Pulling you out of the fire, as usual.” Nero sighed, long suffering. “I don’t spend absolute gobs of gil to ensure that half the realms’ merchants keep me informed of any unusual goings on for nothing. Admittedly usually I am chasing rumor of recently unearthed relics. Brennen told me everything ere he departed to collect you.”

“Nero, I might kiss you.” Alphinaud admitted.

“Please don’t.” 

“You are on foot?” Pipin frowned, glancing around Nero and seeing no form of transportation. “Tell me, how do you intend to bear our friends to safety?”

“Tsk, does my reputation for brilliance not precede me?” Nero sulked, clucking his tongue. “I have the Enterprise hidden a short distance away. All I need is a destination.” 

“We must find a place beyond reach of both the Monetarists and the Crystal Braves. Somewhere Dainty’s powers are yet unknown, or at least disbelieved.” Pipin mused.

“…Coerthas. Ishgard will not tolerate inclusions in their territory. Not for blood or money and they scarce believe the other races capable of independent thought! Let alone the feats Dainty has performed.” Alphinaud stated, his strategic mind unsullied for his despair.

“I will return to Ul’Dah, and see what I can do from within to prevent your defamation within its walls. I may be one voice but it will be the voice of reason against the Monetarists and their cronies.” Pipin insisted. “Frankly, I do not consider it much of a challenge. The small folk will not so easily turn on the Warrior of Light and her friends. No matter what the Monetarists may claim.”

“That settles it.” Nero insisted, glancing at Dainty out of the corner of his eyes as he turned and fully ran, despite his casual entrance. “Why do I always find myself in life or death sprints with you, Dainty?”

“If you fling me again I….!”

“I won’t, I won’t.” Nero promised leading them quickly to where the Enterprise was stationed. He made it there first, unsurprisingly, his long-legged gait easily able to outpace the other two. “Unless you run too slow that is. Up, up! No rest for the righteous!”

An unusual assortment of pure blooded Garleans met them as they boarded the Enterprise, 7 in total including Nero, each clad in the same blue and black Scaevan Ironworks uniform. Save for the lone Elezen, who wore the simple accouterments of an Adventurer.

The white-haired woman had her bow drawn and an arrow ready to fire despite keeping it at a low angle as her violet eyes scanned the distance. She was ready to provide cover, should it be needed but thankfully the only person to witness their departure from the ground was Pipin.

“To Coerthas, Garlond. Get us the Hells out of here.”


	6. SIX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cid tol Garlond wins himself no friendship from the Warrior of Light.

“Bloody typical.” Nero muttered, spotting a familiar set of mint green tresses cornered at the edge of one of the Vanu Vanu Islands in the Sea of Clouds.

He recognized one of the armor-clad figures with Dainty as Lord Haurchefant, and their assailants as the hostile Avian Beast Tribe local to the area. He had been warned to stay away from them when moving about the location.

“Get us close, Garlond.”

Cid tol Garlond was, without a doubt, the most capable pilot of all the Scaevan Ironworks personnel. Not that Nero would admit that for a second, claiming to have given Cid the helm of the Enterprise solely for the enjoyment of ordering Cid around.

Nero was a capable pilot, but Cid had a true gift for it. 

Dainty heard the approaching airship first, Emmanellian cowering to her left, Haurchefant just in front of her and Vanu Vanu warriors closing in on each side.

“We need to stop meeting like this, Dainty.” Nero scolded as the airship docked, Emmanellian scrambling for the deck before it had even fully come to rest in place.

Dainty gave an answering shake of her head, running to join the Elezen youth quickly.

Despite the situation the tall, dark silver haired Haurchefant could not help but grin a little smugly, giving a soft “ha” and a smirk as he quickly holstered his weapon and leaped onto the Enterprise not moments before it would have fully departed.  
Lord Haurchefant was about to express his gratitude for the expedient extrication when the aggressive vocalizations of something very large and very angry rumbled from the clouds below them.

Cid tol Garlond felt his eyebrows just about meet his hairline in surprise at the massive, bio-armored monster that burst out of the clouds, fangs bared and wind and water aspected aether clouds dripping off its baleenesque body.

Unlike, Haurchefant, who had thought that Bismarck, Lord of the Mists, strongly resembled a flying whale Cid was struck by its similarity to an old, decommissioned style of Imperial warship that had been in service of the Empire during Solus’ invasions into the realm. 

He banked hard left on instinct alone, preternatural sensory awareness kicking in and making him very aware that Bismarck was planning to breech, then crash down directly where they would have been had he not averted course.

The Enterprise churned smoothly through the air at his command, as Bismarck altered its course, so too did Cid, right, left, then banking down so that as the massive creature opened is maw, determined to swallow them whole, the ship passed just beneath its jaws and safely out the other side again.

Fast and nimble with Cid tol Garlond at the controls the Enterprise was able to make evasive maneuvers that the gigantic Bismarck could not.

“I do believe that whale just attempted to eat us.” Nero observed sardonically, not the slightest bit rattled by this turn of events.

Which was more than could be said several others on the Enterprise.

Emannellian was fully clinging to one of the rails at the back, shaking in fear and shell shocked.

Haurchefant was not unaffected by the close call but had yet realized they lived still and was attempting to give his brother a measure of reassurance.

Dainty, halfway between the Elezen brothers at the back and the Garlean Engineers at the front merely shrugged, and muttered;

“One more thing I am going to have to murder before the week is out.”

Her use of the word murder set Cid tol Garlond’ teeth on edge.

News had reached Ishgard that Gaius van Baelsar’s corpse had finally been found and removed from the ruins of the Praetorium. Cid had always known his friend and mentor had died there and at Dainty’s hand but some small measure, a fraction of a fraction of a sliver, of hope had remained.

That no body had been found and therefore, perhaps, as unlikely as it was, just perhaps, Gaius yet lived.

After so many months, it had almost been a full year since that day, Cid hadn't even known he had been subconsciously clinging to that fragile hope until he heard the news and it felt as if he had had only just learned of Gaius death anew all over again.

“What the Seven fucking Hells is wrong with this bleeding realm?” Cid tol Garlond snarled as the Enterprise quickly put distance between them and Bismarck, Lord of the Mists, flashing a glare over his shoulder at Nero. “You really prefer this idiocy to Garlemald, Nero? I always knew you were lack-witted but I did not know you were completely mad.”

“Oh the ceaseless Primals aren’t so bad, Garlond. At least not after Dainty gets through with them they ain’t.” Nero laughed but it utterly failed to calm the other Garlean.

Cid told Garlond gave a contemptful snort, voice ugly and mocking;

“Is Dainty capable of ought else but murder?”

“Are you?” Nero challenged.

“Bold talk considering we ride upon an airship I built as a mere teen, a feat you have yet to top, I might add.” Cid tol Garlond spat in reply.

“An airship you can kiss the piloting of goodbye for that, Garlond.” Nero snarled, ire raised sharply as his pride took a hit.

“Try and stop me Nero, I dare you. Mistake me not; given even half an ilm of opportunity I shall be out of this damned realm the second I am able! And the only warning you shall have that I am gone is my blade in her back.” Cid warned, eyes flashing dangerously in Dainty’s direction.

Nero recognized the words for what they were.

There was no truth to them, Nero believed and, if anyone had thought to press him upon the subject he felt there was fair evidence to back up his belief. 

Cid tol Garlond had saved his life at Syrcus Tower, for no other motivation than it was the right thing to do. It certainly did not benefit Cid for Nero to remain living, and lording over him.

There were a multitude of means and methods that Cid tol Garlond might have had opportunity to flee back to Garlemald, but he never did. Nero and the Scaevan Ironworks worked so closely beside the Scions of the Seventh Dawn that is was wholly possibly that Cid might have been able to uncover information he could use to barter his way safely into the new Emperor’s good graces.

Yet he never even went looking for such information, accepting being given only what he needed to work on the projects that Nero ordered him to work on.

It was obvious, to Nero at least, that the other man was lashing out in reborn grief. It were pain, and anger in Cid’s eyes, not hatred.

“There is naught more than a noose awaiting you in Garlemald and we both know it, Garlond. Take us back to Ishgard.”


	7. SEVEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alcohol + Grief = Cranky tol Garlond.

Cid tol Garlond looked at the over-cooked, burnt lumps of whitish something that had the indecency to call itself fried Icepicks.

He didn’t know what an Icepick was but his dinner definitely tasted like it was cooked by someone who had had an ice pick driven through their skull at some point and could perform only the very basic of functions in his opinion.

At least the beer was tolerable, and plentiful.

Gillibront’s best brown ale was cheap enough that even the Ironworks crew could afford it in large enough quantities to get pleasantly numb for the evening, as such they had a tendency to congregate in the bar of the Forgotten Knight enmasse after closing up the Skysteel Manufactury for the night. 

Cid tol Garlond, in particular, was drinking with the kind of bloody minded determination of someone who was desperately looking to forget just about everything other than their own name.

The sight of so many pure blooded Garleans congregated in one spot had ruffled more than a few icy Ishgardian feathers among the usual regulars who frequented the bar but Carine Monteil, the Scaevan Ironworks’ Security Detail, ensured everyone remained on their best behavior.

Both the Garleans and the Elezen and Hyurs who objected to their presence. 

Despite being born and raised in Gridania Carine's Mother hailed from a minor Ishgardian House and her Father had been born in the Brume.

As such she knew well how to speak to those both above and below to rigid class and social divides in Ishgard.

A few pointed words about the Archbishop being ever so upset to have his Airship projects delayed because renown Engineer, Master Nero nan Scaeva, had to waste time bailing out his shop hands over a trifling misunderstanding tended to send most on their way, grumbling but unwilling to push it further.

For anyone else tapping her bow and calmly inviting them outside to put their money where their mouth is was more than sufficient.

The fact that Carine could boast at having stood beside the Warrior of Light in battle was serving her well in Ishgard, at least with those who frequented the Forgotten Knight. How far it would get her with the Nobleborns, those trained with sword and spell and to kill Dragons remained to be seen.

At present the pretty Elezen was nursing a mulled wine at the bar while Cid tol Garlond was doing his best to eat around the burnt bits of his dinner.

“Oof, you’re leaving the best part.” Carine scolded, leaning over and taking one of the extra crispy bits of fried batter out of his bowl.

Cid looked at her, unimpressed, one blue eye twitching with annoyance because really? Who just helps themselves to someone else's food?

 _Savages, all of them…. How can they yet live when Gaius is dead… ? All his ambition, all his goals for naught, when these imbecilic peoples manage to stumble and slur their way through life as if by accident._ \- Cid growled silently, eyes narrowed as they roved around the dimly lit bar.

Other than fight dragons, there appeared to be nothing to do in Ishgard save have sex and pop out several hellion children in rapid succession, Cid tol Garlond strongly suspected it was only by propagating power that the Elezen race hadn’t yet sent itself extinct through sheer genetic null achievement. 

Cid found himself wishing Nero would show up and distract Carine, who blithely continued to help herself to the burnt crispy bits of his fried Icepicks. 

“Would you stop?” Cid growled, catching Carine’s wrist in a dangerous grip when she again reached for his plate.

He too could technically claim to have done battle beside the Warrior of Light thanks to what occurred at the Syrcus Tower and was a pure blooded Garlean to boot. The hardy peoples were almost super human levels of strong compared to most of the other races.

Only Roegadyn could really give pure bloods a run for their money and that was on sheer muscle size alone.

Pound for pound Garleans were frightfully strong.

“Careful.” Carine grinned, leaning towards him a little, unafraid and dropping her voice to a conspiratorial level. “You don’t want to go stirring up rumor of being anything other than a harmless Engineer again, do you, Tribunus?”

She had learned quite a bit about Cid tol Garlond and his history with Nero nan Scaeva since she had taken up position as the Scaevan Ironworks’ security detail. She still wasn’t entirely sure how Nero came to possess the Enterprise, however, an aircraft of Cid’s design and creation.

“Leave me alone.” Cid tol Garlond snarled, giving her a little shove as he released her wrist.

His airship privileges had already been revoked. He really wasn’t afraid of stepping out of line at this point.

Carine Montiel twisted her fingers together lightly shooting a worried glance at Cid tol Garlond, his blue eyes hard and unfocused as he stared moodily into his food.

The man was borderline drunk, clearly deeply upset about something and straying dangerously into violent territory.

Dainty noted Cid tol Garlonds’ presence and state the second she entered the Forgotten Knight.

The Architect of Ultima Weapon blended in with the other pure bloods that made up the Scaevan Ironworks well enough for most to not even glance in Cid tol Garlond’s direction but Dainty found it difficult not to be aware of someone who had threatened not only her existence but that of her very realm, no matter how despondent she were.

Her orange and purple eyes took in the white hair, fully grown long to his collar and the neatly trimmed beard that the man scratched occasionally, still aggravated by its existence on his face.  
His long hair no longer seemed to bother him the way it had, however.

Perhaps due to the application of a set of Engineer’s goggles across his forehead. Although the long white bangs flopped on either side of his face it no longer perpetually fell into his eyes.

Dainty’s silent scrutiny sent a chill up Cid tol Garlond’s spine and he turned to look at her for a moment.

He gave a shudder of revulsion and turned away again, biting back an urge to spit “murderer” at her.

 _Its not worth it._ – He thought blearily.

If the stoic and mostly silent Au’Ra even bothered to defend herself against the charges Cid already knew what she would say, and what justifications she would give.

Of course Eorzea’s Protector would fight back against that which intended to enslave Eorzea. It wasn’t her fault she was so stupid she did not understand being part of the Garlean Empire was better than living in Primal damned lands.

Cid didn’t necessarily truly believe that, not really, deep down in his core but he was heart-broken and struggling to cling onto anything that made sense in this chaotic realm. 

Might is Right, and that Eorzea must be brought to heel by a Strong leader was what Gaius had always believed.

This was the ideal he had sold Cid on when ordering him the repair the Ultima Weapon and make it fully functional. That ultimately, everything they did was for the protection of the Eorzean people against Primals.

Cid tol Garlond looked at Dainty again out of the corner of his very blue eyes, gaze obscured partially by the long white locks he sported unwillingly. She turned her face in his direction, noting his gaze instantly in that strange, preternatural way she did.

“I am pleased to see that the goggles fit you.” the Au'Ra observed, seemingly at random.

“What?”

If context existed for whatever she was muttering about Cid tol Garlond was utterly missing it.

“Your Engineers goggles.” A small smirk tweaked the corner of her mouth before disappearing quickly. “I was afraid I’d had made the band to small, you’ve a stronger brow than Nero but it seems they fit you well.”

All in a rush Cid recalled finding the goggles on his pillow at Saint Coinach’s Find.

Assuming them to be Nero’s doing he had dutifully put them on and until this very moment he had not thought to question that presumption. The sudden memory of Dainty constantly tinkering with something while they were struggling to unlock the Crystal Tower played in Cid tol Garlond’s mind.

“Ah-ha! I knew you stole a pair of my goggles to make those!” Nero accused, leveling a finger at Dainty, vindicated in his suspicions as he joined them, strolling down the stairs that led into the bar as if he owned the place.

Nero had never commented on where Garlond had suddenly acquired his goggles from, correctly assuming they had come from Dainty and knowing Garlond would likely not keep wearing them if the other Garlean were aware of their true origin. 

That would have discouraged the man’s voluntary alterations to his features by the application of the accessory, which Nero was eager to avoid. Every day the number of people who knew who and what Cid tol Garlond had been grew, to Nero’s discomfort. Nero was risking his rather hard won reputation by shielding Cid tol Garlond, after all. He would prefer to mitigate the risk of being branded untrustworthy as much as possible.

“Next time part with them willingly when I ask.” Dainty shot back.

“Never.” Nero huffed, then turned his head to the right when Carine tapped his left shoulder with an amused smirk. “I’ve yet to fall for that, Miss Carine and I do not intend to start tonight.”

The Elezen giggled.

A deep frown crossed Cid’s features, tuning out Carine and Nero’s ceaseless flirting.

He could understand Dainty starting on making the goggles before she knew who he was.

Judging from the playful bickering now occurring between Dainty and Nero Cid tol Garlond was able to infer that Dainty crafted some sort of welcoming gift for all new-comers to the Scaevan Ironworks.  
A tradition started with Nero himself as his own red tinted goggles had been a gift from her, delivered via the Echo the night he defected from Garlemald.

It confused Cid tol Garlond, however, that Dainty had not instantly discarded the blue lensed accessory upon learning his true identity. Or shattered it underfoot after being told to go fuck herself, and that he ought to have murdered her, which he undeniably had spat at her.

Carefully Cid told Garlond risked glancing out of the corner of his eyes to look at Dainty again, finding one of Nero’s long arms resting on Dainty’s head using her as an arm rest as she was so short and he so tall.

Dainty was rolling her eyes, the faintest hint of almost laughter on her normally stoic, cold features.

Something that felt suspiciously like indigestion manifest in Cid tol Garlond’s stomach, adding to his inability to reconcile that the goggles had been a custom-made gift from the woman who killed Gaius.

Not only that but she had yet given them to him despite his being utterly horrid to her. He was torn between a drunken desire to tear them from his head and throw them at her feet and a more reasonable response of thanking her sincerely for the gift that he had grown to like very much.

Thoughts of Gaius’ devotion to the idea of Might is Right sent Cid’s liquor lubricated thoughts down a strange path. If might was right, and Dainty was mightier than Gaius, then did not that then make her actions…. right?

_I wonder.. if she would even be willing to tell me…what Gaius’ last words were? Did he curse her… or congratulate her?_

The thought seemed traitorous to its core and yet, drunk, Cid could not dismiss it. 

Dainty did not appear to be staying, jabbing Nero sharply in the ribs to dislodge his arm before collecting a bottle of mulled wine from Gillibront and moving out of the Forgotten Knight quickly, her steps hurried as if she were under a time crunch that were rapidly elapsing.

Nero and Dainty were friends, their goofing off was perfectly in character for the pair even if it did make Carine give a little frown that she tried to hide behind her glass of wine. 

With a deep scowl Cid tol Garlond realized he was as jealous as Carine was.

Not out of a desire to date the scaled woman, who he was still reasonably sure was, in fact, 13 years old despite what Nero said. But because of the friendship between Dainty and Nero.

Cid found himself trying to name a single person within Garlemald who, had he fallen to his knees in a World of Darkness, would have been willing to drag him out or die trying.

Certainly not anyone of the XIVth, not even Gaius.

For all that Cid had ever been loyal to Gaius it had not been a two way street. Gaius had ever been too focused on his own goals, his own glory, leading him to neglect those that loved him best. Livia sas Junius and Cid tol Garlond both had ever been scrambling for scraps of Gaius time and attention, each considering him a Father figure.

Moodily Cid tol Garlond looked at his beer, trying to recall if he had enough coin in his pocket to order another, or if he could sneakily put one on Carine’s tab. 

She had eaten half his dinner, after all.


	8. EIGHT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eorzea is starting to have an odd effect on Cid tol Garlond. He might actually be feeling the consequences of his actions.

As Dainty had predicted killing the Primal Bismarck had fallen on her slender shoulders.

Although admittedly being dragged through the Sea of Clouds on an island being towed by the Enterprise as “bait” had been a bit of a surprise.

She rather suspected Nero had enjoyed that a little bit too much, chortling and insisting that delivering her to the fire for once was rather more enjoyable that constantly pulling her out of it.

Being ambushed by the Ascian Igeyorhm and the would be Tyrant Archbishop Thordan had also been a surprise, and a deeply unpleasant one at that.

Dainty fell to her knees, utterly unable to shake off the miasma like clutches of the Ascian’s foul magicks, no matter how much she struggled against it.

“How strong you have grown, Warrior of Light. Far beyond the limits of mere mortals.” The Ascian observed, with a glance the same powers that kept Dainty restrained lifted the key of Azys Lla, so hard won from Bismarck’s stomach, from the ground to Thordan’s hand.

“My thanks to you Ascian, and you to, Warrior of Light, for saving us the effort of slaying Bismarck.” Thordan turned away, raising his head to the Sea of Clouds’ blue window. A seemingly endless sky of blue with no clouds or floating islands to give any indication of scope and size. Within the featureless maze, somewhere, resided the Allagans super city of Ayzs Lla. “Now that the key is within our grasp, the path to the heavens shall be laid bare.”

“No!” 

The arrow loosed itself from Carine’s bow in an instant, shuddering its way towards Thordan’s heart.

Unlike Cid and Nero, who had had to remain in the engine room during the fight, Primal influence and tempering being what it was, the Echo possessed Carine had been able to stay above deck and ensure the Enterprise remained in autopilot mode while Dainty fought, as well as manning several machines that took readings in hopes of giving the Warrior of Light warning of potential attacks through out the encounter.

The moment the Archbishop had been so kind to step away from the Ascian and give her a clear shot Carine had seen an opportunity to end his machinations once and for all.

Her efforts quickly proved ineffective, however as the arrow shuddered into a magic, protective barrier and fell inert to the grass.

In a millisecond Carine knew she should have held her tongue and her attack as the Ascian turned towards her, masked face inscrutable, yet still managing to convey malice and death.

One hand raised, a bolt of pure darkness shot towards Carine, and instead made contact with Dainty.

Imprisoned though she was by Igeyorhm’s bonds the distraction provided by Carine had allowed Dainty to shake them off enough to burst to her feet and strafe in front of the Elezen woman, taking the blow instead.

“Dainty!” Carine cried, violet eyes like saucers as the slender Au’Ra was thrown off her feet by the sheer force of the blast.

The Warrior of Light rolled twice and lay still in the grass.

“….yet so frail.” Igeyorhm observed, turning to Archbishop Thordan who laughed openly as Carine rushed to Dainty’s side, shaking her a little.

“Dainty? Oh Gods, Dainty?!”

“By our deeds shall the wrongs of antiquity be righted, and man reclaim the reins of history!” Thordan offered, earning him a look of dire hatred from Carine as before, in silence, Thordan and the Ascian turned and moved to join the small, nimble airship that docked with the island, manned by the heavily armed Heavensward.

Even if Dainty could have risen at that point she would have been desperately outclassed.

Carine choked back a sob as they departed, leaving her alone on the island and not entirely sure if Dainty were alive or dead.

“NERO!!!!!” she screamed.

Her frantic cries quickly summoned Nero and Cid tol Garlond from the Enterprise, the Garleans quickly leaping from the deck of the Enterprise to the island, weapons drawn and coming to a dead stop to see Dainty’s broken, battered form.

“What has happened?!”

Nero approached Carine quickly and the Elezen rose from Dainty’s side to fling herself against him, shaking so hard her teeth were chattering.

“Oh Gods... Oh... oh Gods I killed her...” Carine gasped, wide eyed, clinging to Nero. She was shaking so hard her teeth were chattering. “I thought to h…help! W..what was...I....t..t...thinking! Pr...v.v.voking an....Asican!?”

She was going into shock, Nero realized quickly, lifting her into his arms. He needed to get her somewhere warm and calm quickly but the Twelve help them all if Dainty really were dead.

A glance proved Carine wrong thankfully. 

Dainty was painfully pushing herself up off the cold grass.

The Engineers exchanged matched looks of trepidation, still not entirely sure what had happened but if an Ascian had been involved it could not have been good, before Cid automatically began striding swiftly towards Dainty to assist her leaving Nero free to concentrate on taking care of Carine. 

The engine of the Enterprise was completely overcooked but the room that housed it would make a perfect heater to infuse some warmth into the trembling, rigid Carine.

“Nnnnf no...” Dainty groaned, struggling to pull herself away from the Garlean approaching her, panic lancing down every limb.

_My legs, Gods, I can't move my legs._

There was no doubt that blast would have been fatal for anyone other than her. The Ascian had intended to murder Carine in front her, just like Moenbryda.

 _My ax..._ \- Dainty's eyes were wild and wide, terror written across them, utterly unable to suppress it as the tall, white haired Garlean approached her. _Where did my ax fall?!_

“...get away!”

Half hiss half shriek the command tore itself loose from her throat, fingers clawing into the grass and trying to pull herself towards her ax on sheer will alone.

Cid tol Garlond paused, looking wild eyed at the terrified Au'Ra, struggling to understand her hysteric fear.

“Damn your opportunity!” Dainty spat at him.

Like a bolt of white hot fire up Cid tol Garlond's spine he suddenly recalled the last words he had ever spoken to her. Well, at her. 

The words were spoken to Nero, and in a rage at that. He hadn't actually meant that he would kill her as soon he had the opportunity.

Dainty’s palpable dread hit Cid tol Garlond somewhere in his gut and shocked him immobile.

She was terrified of him.

Other than Nero’s reassurances and her own strength, both of which were absent at that very moment she had no reason to believe him anything other than a still loyal Imperial looking to capitalize on her injured state.

With a the Garlean Warship the Gaviton recently seen in the area and his own threats against her she had every right to think him about to throttle her with his bare hands and carry her corpse back to Garlemald as a trophy.

“Garlond! For fucks sake, stop staring at her and pick her up!” Nero shouted tersely from the deck of the Enterprise having set Carine in the engine room and returned to the controls, expecting Cid and Dainty to have boarded by now. 

Seeing that Cid tol Garlond was frozen, rooted in place Nero stormed over there. 

Dainty’s was breathing sharp and quick in her pain and panic, gasping and panting all at once. She reminded Nero of a scared, injured animal, one leg caught in a trap. 

Her entire body shook as Nero yanked off his coat, talking to her softly despite the harsh tone he had used on Cid.

“Don't panic, we'll have you right in a jiffy.” Nero murmured, tying the removed coat around her paralyzed legs to prevent them flailing uncontrollably when he lifted her. “I know, it hurts. It’s alright, it’s alright. Put your arms around my neck before you go bleeding to death.”

She did slowly, shakily and his slid his arms beneath her slender form. “Nothing to it. You'll be alright. I promise.”

She gritted her teeth against the pain as Nero lifted her into his arms, cradle hold as gently as he was able.

What was pain to her?

Pain was what had made her a Warrior.

Dainty could feel herself struggling to stay conscious, Nero carrying her swiftly to the Enterprise, muttering under his breath at Cid as he walked; “I swear I am going to have to start telling you how to wipe yer own arse before long. Lack witted, sodding….”

Cid tol Garlond followed in a daze.

He had always thought himself so above other Garleans, because he did not agree with the Empire’s political stances even though he followed it out of loyalty to Gaius.

But the sheer terror in Dainty’s dark magenta eyes, so full of repressed agony and dragging herself through the grass like a wounded animal out of sheer desperation to get away from him utterly broke him.

He wasn’t a monster.  
He wasn’t an Imperial.

He never thought of her harming her even once. She would have been safe with him, he would swear it to any Deity she desired.

Yet why would she believe him? He had given her no cause to. 

If it had been anyone else looking at him as if he were a voidsent incarnated Cid tol Garlond might have been able to shake it off and soothe himself with thoughts that the person just had something against Garleans in general.

The fact it was Dainty, who had welcome all of the defectors of the Scaevan Ironworks with gifts, even Cid himself, who palpably afraid of him utterly destroyed him.

He had not realized he had grown to begrudgingly respect her until confronted with the fact that she did not see anything worthy of respect in him. Dainty looked at him and saw a Monster and, as desperately as he wanted to, he could not argue that he did not deserve to be viewed as such.

“In retrospect we probably ought to have seen some sought of Ascian interference coming.” Nero observed in low tones, oblivious to the shattered wits of the man behind him. 

Nero set Dainty down on the deck of the Enterprise, realizing he couldn't very well carry her the entire flight back. 

He had barred Cid tol Garlond from the controls for being a mouthy swot, after all.

“Nnnn..” The auri whimpered in pain. The jolts of it through her body on each step preventing her from succumbing to blackness. 

“As much as it annoys me to go back on this, you take the controls. You can keep the Enterprise more level than I.” Nero barked at Cid, moving to his knees beside Dainty to brace her. As much as it cost him his pride to admit that Cid tol Garlond was the superior pilot Nero did not put his pride above Dainty being injured.

Cid nodded wordlessly, moving to the controls, eyes instantly scanning the horizon to ensure the smoothest ride back to Ishgard as possible for the injured occupant.

He could do that small mercy for the woman at least.

Recriminations clouded his mind as the Enterprise moved smoothly through the air at his command.

Nero was right, Cid tol Garlond had never been like the others, he had never had any desire to rule, or lord over others. 

His desires had always been to use his inventions to bring benefit to peoples lives and to have Family in his life after the little that remained to him was taken by an accident. It was this that Gaius had always sold him on, telling him pervasive stories of benefiting the Eorzeans by shattering their beliefs in false Gods and ridding their lands of Primals.

Ultima Weapon, Cid’s penultimate creation, was supposed to have been the lynch pin by which Gaius would build a bold, bright future in Eorzea, its people finally free from their weak, petty rulers and religious shackles.

 _But that was not what happened, was it._ – Cid tol Garlond thought, finally admitting to himself that Gaius’s supposed intentions did not match Gaius’ actions anymore than Cid’s own did.

It was on his actions that he was judged, and feared.

Cid tol Garlond considered himself a good person yet what evidence of that did he have save his private thoughts that none bar himself knew? He could not discount that a woman with the Echo, the ability to see everything about a person, had been terrified of him.


	9. NINE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cid starts to display the difference between a Garlean and an Imperial

Snippets of conversations moved hazily through Dainty’s mind as she drifted in and out of consciousness.

It was hard to keep focused on any 1 thing in particular, Carine at her side and stroking her hair, but she thought she had come to understand that she had been placed in the Skysteel Manufactory.

Alphinaud and Aymeric, being somewhat leery of those who supported Thordan discovering quite the injured state she was in, had decided it best not to take her to the Fortemps Manor and call for a Chirurgeon unless it were absolutely necessary.

Alphinaud felt confident they could trust Stephanivien de Haillenarte, as manager of the Manufactory, to remain silent and the lad had proven correct.

Stephanivien had taken one look at Dainty and promptly slapped a “Closed for Inventory” sign on the front door of the Manufactory, dead-bolting it and stocking up the forging fires so that Dainty would be warm, at least, while she convalesced. 

Truth be told Stephanivien would have done just about anything for Nero nan Scaeva, whose designs the entire Machinist discipline, Stephanivien’s pride and joy, was built upon.

Alphinaud had gone with Lucia and a small contingent of Temple Knights to the Sonu village to thank the Chief for the assistance in slaying Bismark, only to discover the Emperor of Garlemald himself in attendance with Regula van Hydrus.

They themselves were seeking Azys Lla and, thinking the Sonu tempered by Bismarck, had been planning on visiting a massacre upon all of them. 

Alphinaud and Lucia had managed to dissuade them otherwise, however news of this had led to some colourful cursing on Nero’s part;

“First the archbishop turns up with an Ascian in tow, and now the fucking Emperor pays a visit!? What is this, a procession of notable bastards? Who's next? The Keeper of the Seventh bloody Gate!?”

“For all our efforts, the archbishop holds the very thing we sought to keep from him.” Carine murmured.

If Dainty heard her Carine wasn’t sure, the woman seemed to be slipping in and out of consciousness and Carine looked up at Nero, giving a tight smile. “I suppose all is not lost, for she yet lives and we know their destination at least. We can give chase.”

“That is one way of looking at it, however, as your Employer, I must insist upon no more attempted assassinations of megalomaniacal would be dictators.” Nero requested. “I can’t bloody afford to replace you.”

Carine gave a little smile, recognizing the worried tone in Nero’s voice below the scolding one. The way he had carried her into the Enterprise had been so gentle and tender and he had prioritized her above Dainty.

Carine had always been concerned that, no matter how much she and Nero flirted, his heart belonged to Dainty and that he flirted with herself only because he could not have what he truly wanted.

That fear had been fully laid to rest now, however, Carine’s heart buoyed to see how Nero had almost completely ignored Dainty in favor of tending to herself the second she was in even the slightest of danger.

She had always done her best not to be jealous of the friendship between Nero and Dainty, believing that were romance ever going to occur there it would have already. Nero had ever gone above and beyond for Dainty and the Scions and in turn, Dainty had ever gone above and beyond for Nero and the Scaevan Ironworks.

Carine was now fully confident that it were only friendship between the pair, she just had to figure out why Nero still hadn’t asked her out.

“Dainty?” Carine questioned, seeing the woman was momentarily coming around. “Do you need anything?”

The Au’Ra was healing monstrously quickly, she’d already regained the use of her legs, although was in an advanced weakened state.

Dainty mumbled something, and Carine leaned closer: “What was that? Water?”

“…..beer…”

“You cannot have any beer!” Alphinaud protested, thinking the alcoholic beverage the last thing in the world Dainty needed right now.

“Whiskey would be better, the level of pain she is likely in.” Lucia observed, blue eyes taking in the injured woman. 

They had declined to call a healer to prevent the leak of information, after all.

A large hand holding a flask manifest itself in Lucia’s line of vision and she traced it up to reveal it belonged to Cid tol Garlond. The man had been silent, and withdrawn so far, doing little more than ensuring the forging fires were well stoked.

No one begrudged him his silence, assuming that the news that the Emperor of Garlemald had been in the vicinity was triggering some strong emotions for the formerly loyal Imperial.

Lucia took it with a nod of thanks, giving a sniff and discovering it was good quality brandy which were even better as it was likely to help Dainty sleep off the injuries. She recognized the emblem on the flask too and wondered where, precisely, Cid had gotten Forlemort Durendaire’s personal flask from but decided it weren’t worth arguing.

Forlemort was notoriously forgetful with his things and it benefited them to have the flask at that moment so Lucia chalked it up to the manipulations of the Fury and moved to press the flask into Dainty’s hands.

Cid returned to the darkened corner he had been loitering into nurse his hurt heart.

“As soon as Dainty is recovered we must give chase. We can no more risk the Emperor getting his hands on whatever the Allagans stowed in the clouds than Thordan!” Alphinaud insisted, watching Dainty greedily drink from the flask she had been given.

“Aye. If the Empire has an interest in Azys Lla, we have all the more reason to hurry. I would not see its secrets fall into the hands of either the archbishop or the Emperor.” Lucia agreed.

 _Actions, not intentions, Garlond._ – Cid tol Garlond reminded himself. – _If you believe yourself a good man, then prove it._

“Built by the ancient Allagan Empire, Azys Lla was at the forefront of Allagan science. It was in its halls that Allagan scientists perfected techniques for binding Primals. The first three Primals the Allagan Empire ever bound, known as the Warring Triad, were captured and held in the Genesis Expression within the Flagship at the center of Azys Lla.” Cid tol Garlond recited. His knowledge of the forbidden floating city so much more vast from having done research on it while still within the bosom of the Empire. “Regula van Hydrus and the VIth Legion has been seeking its entrance for several years now, which proved impossible due to the powerful energy barrier erected around the location. The key what were stolen from our hands functions not only as a compass but as a means of broaching the barrier. Despite the Gration being the absolute newest in Garlean dreadnaught technology it were yet unable to pierce the barrier without the key. To this end a spy were sent to Ishgard to gain access to the Vault in hopes of locating the key to Azys Lla within.”

Cid tol Garlond’s eyes slid to Lucia, having noted her Garlean blue eyes and striking similarity to Cid’s former comrade in arms Livia sas Junius.

Nero looked at Cid in surprise, before a small smile quirked up the side of his lips.

“Well, well, well, old-friend, managed to unfetter that brilliant mind of yours at long last, have you? Good. Now you might actually prove a worthy adversary to my genius. I was getting soundly bored of you merely doing as you were told.” 

Despite the pain Dainty rolled her eyes. 

She should have known Nero had other motivations for saving Cid tol Garlond’s life above his assertions that Cid was not like the other Imperials. She still did not trust the former Imperial Tribunus, she was so cold-hearted and unforgiving, she was unsure she was capable of ever doing so but she could at least acknowledge if he wanted her dead she would have been by now.

“If we return to the point where Thordan activated the key I believe I could calculate the precise direction of the beam of light, allowing us to at least follow the Soliel and Gration.” Cid tol Garlond offered.

He would do anything to prove himself the man he believed he was. If that meant tweaking Regula’s long sought prize from the other Garlean’s hand, so be it.

“It seems plain that without the Vanu's key, any attempt to reach the isle will end in failure.” Alphinaud commented.

“Alas, the key was careless enough to leave without us, and I don't think the Vanu keep a spare.” Nero offered, then mused. “In the past, we've beaten similar barriers by nullifying them with elemental converters. But the one we're up against this time dwarves aught we've encountered before. The Enterprise simply isn't large enough to bear the requisite amount of crystals.”

“I am reminded of the quantity needed to nullify Leviathan's command of the sea... A veritable mountain of crystals that could only be borne by lashing two galleons together to form a “twin vessel” scarcely able to propel itself, much less fly.” Alphinaud agreed.

“Assuming that the barrier mechanism draws aether from the surrounding environment, and polarizes its elemental aspect to produce what is, in effect, a wall of lightning then it isn't feasible to nullify the barrier. However, we might try _piercing_ it.” 

This quiet suggestion from Cid tol Garlond lit Nero’s blue eyes up with delight, his mind instantly catching the other Engineer’s train of thought and extrapolating upon it in a way it had not since the men were at magitek school together.

“Yes! A ram of condensed aether, mounted on the Enterprise!” Nero crowed. “There's just one problem, I don't have the faintest idea how to build one. Garlond?”

Cid gave a similar nonplussed shrug. He could theorize that something would be possible but when it came to the manipulation of aether Garleans would always be soundly outclassed by the other races.  
“It's going to take a true authority in the field, were that the Archon’s were still with us.” Alphinaud sighed heavily.

Carine rose to her feet, clearing her throat a little and gesturing with her head that they should all step away from where Dainty had drifted back to sleep after chugging the entire flask of brandy in one go.

Once they had withdrawn a conspiratorial distance away the pretty Elezen explained;

“Tartaru wanted me to tell you, without Dainty knowing, that she has acquired a clue pointing to the whereabouts of one such individual. She feared Dainty would not remain in bed to heal properly if she were to learn of it.”

“Tartaru isn’t wrong about that.” Alphinaud snorted, eyes flashing to the sleeping auri, knowing well that the stubborn woman would insist on joining them on any ventures to retrieve the Scions, whether it was a good idea or not. “She may not spend her days slaying primals, but Tataru is no less a Scion than any other. Full oft has her knack for acquiring information, and knowing how to manage Dainty, has proven vital to our endeavors. To think she has located an Archon.”

“It would seem fortune favors the righteous at long last. Well then, let's not waste any time. While you go and look for our missing friend, Garlond and I will set to work on modifying my ship. Her hull will need reinforcing to bear the punishment, not to mention a mount for the ram.” Nero nodded.

“Think not of the cost. Whatever you require to modify the Enterprise, you shall have it.” Aymeric promised as Cid tol Garlond was muttering something that sounded suspiciously like “your ship?” under his breath.

Carine glanced at the white haired man out of the corner of her eyes, wondering again, as she had at the Forgotten Knight, how Nero had come to possess the Enterprise.


	10. TEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cid and Dainty have a chat. Neither of them are particularly happy about it.

“Hmmm?”

“Dainty?” Cid tol Garlond asked carefully, watching the woman's eyes slowly flutter and, after a moment, gently open.

She was so tiny, and delicate looking and had been so still in sleep that he fully admitted to having checked if she was still breathing several times. 

He had never seen a Raen Au’Ra that closely before but having been tasked with keeping an eye on the Warrior by Alphinaud and baring the responsibility of reforming the Enterprise in order the support the weight of an atherial ram by Aymeric Cid tol Garlond and Nero nan Sceava had had very little choice but to carry the unconscious Dainty from the Skysteel Manufactory and set her on the flight deck of the Enterprise in a cocoon of blankets and pillows.

In doing so Cid tol Garlond had gotten quite a good look at the scales that marked her face, neck and hands. And presumably her entire body but she was currently wrapped up in many blankets against the Ishgardian cold.

It bothered him how light she was, and how prominently her cheekbones seemed beneath her skin. She really was a wretchedly skinny thing.

Dainty blinked at the white haired, bearded face that swam in her vision, taking in the blue aviator’s goggles and neatly trimmed beard. A little frown crossed her features and a small murmur of annoyance escaped her before she asked softly;

“What happened?”

“You were badly injured.”

“I remember that.” Dainty scowled, looking around and realizing she was no longer at the Skysteel Manufactory but had been moved somewhere that she did not recognize. “Where am I? Why am I alone with _you_ , of all people?” 

Her voice hazy but tone hostile.

Cid tol Garlond paled a little, still deeply discomforted by the fact that she had had reason to believe her life in danger at his hands and clearly did not trust him an ilm.

“Because you downed an entire flask of brandy like the alcoholic au’ra you are and I refuse to risk being vomited on!” Nero’s voice informed her imperiously from somewhere out of view. “I paid a pretty penny for this coat.”

It was a nice coat after all. Red and black with understated brass details.

“You are safe with me, I promise.” Cid tol Garlond offered Dainty softly. “I will gladly answer all of your questions, but will you please drink a little first? You have been unconscious for quite a while and are likely dehydrated."

Dainty gave Cid something of a narrow-eyed look before accepting the bottle of water he was offering her, comforted by the discovering she had not been left not entirely alone with the white haired Garlean. Nero was about somewhere at least even if she couldn’t quite see him.

“Where is Alphinaud?” 

“He and Tartaru are traveling to... Gridania... in hopes of seeking help from the, uhm, Padjal, I think he said, in extracting Y'Shtola Rhul from the Aether currents.” Cid tol Garlond explained with a small frown, then added; “I can only assume I pronounced most of that correctly.”

“Y’Shtola!” Dainty’s eyes lit up at mention of the name of one of the Scions making as if to rise. If Alphinaud was in Gridania she needed to be there to keep him safe.

“I regret to inform you that Nero and I have been placed under strict orders to ensure you remain in Ishgard to heal until the others return.” Cid explaining, moving to avert her attempts at getting out of pile of pillows and blankets she had been cocooned in by blocking her in with his large, solid body.

“Seriously?” Dainty snorted with a sour look. 

She was certain she was mostly fine. 

She healed quick although, if she were honest with herself, she wasn’t entirely positive she could make Cid tol Garlond move at this point. Not without causing herself a great deal of pain anyway.

He was rather muscular, and she was without her ax.

“Yes! Carine is with them, they will be fine. So behave yourself.” Nero confirmed, again little more than a disembodied voice.

It was only when Nero’s head and torso appeared over the edge, an exasperated expression on his face, that Dainty realized she had been placed on the flight deck of the Enterprise to sleep off the brandy while Cid and Nero worked on the airship. She was well hidden from any who might take advantage of her unconscious state there, cocooned in as many pillows and blankets as the Garleans could get their hands on so that they could continue to work while keeping an eye on her. “I am going into the engine room to start the reinforcements there. I don’t think I need to enunciate how much of an argument we will have if you rough up any of my employees, do I, Dainty?”

Dainty fully glared at the blond.

Other than Tartaru, Nero was undoubted the best equipped at managing the sometimes-volatile tempered Warrior, however, knowing how to apply a guilt trip just right in order to arrange her compliance.

“No.” she muttered unwillingly but she didn't protest as Cid tol Garlond arranged the pillows for her so that she could sit up in the makeshift bed that had been hastily thrown together for her and tucked the blankets firmly around her.

She scowled a little, unimpressed with being treated like a fragile child and moved around while unconscious but aware she hadn’t given them much choice when she chose to down the alcohol to escape the pain of her injuries; “Where is your gunblade?”

“By my tools.” Cid admitted honestly, moving to pick it up and placed it by her side; “Here, I know how twitchy I get without a weapon handy.”

Dainty looked at the weapon, wanting to believe him trustworthy because she wanted Nero to be right in his assertions that Cid tol Garlond had never been like the other Imperials.

“And your blaster?”

“The same. They are to defend you if needs be, nothing more. I swear to you, Dainty, I know what I said but it were not what I meant.” Cid tol Garlond assured her. 

“What else could you have possibly meant by saying you wanted to kill me?” Dainty challenged.

“Gaius is dead, and you took him from me.”

His words were poorly chosen if they were meant to reassure her that did not desire revenge for the Praetorium. Her mind instantly realizing Nero was below deck and unlikely to hear the commotion if there was a fight.

“Gaius van Baelsar should not have brought an Allagans super weapon to bare against my realm.” Dainty replied tersely, tensing, eyes watching him for any hint that he were about to strike.

“You are correct. He should not have. Nor followed the promises of an Ascian. And I should not have blindly followed him, beguiled by promises I already knew were false.” Cod tol Garlond admitted voice very dark and eyes holding hers. “I was mouthing off, unwilling to admit I had been played for a fool by the person I loved and respected. By the man I considered family! I apologize that my words made you fear me.”

Deep down Cid tol Garlond knew what Gaius van Baelsar offered Eorzea was not liberation, no more than it had been for Ala Mhigo when the man sat as Imperial Viceroy upon the Mad Kings’ Throne.

From the moment he had picked up a magitek screw driver to begin work on the Ultima Weapon Cid had known it was wrong but he had not been willing to risk Gaius’ anger, or the withdrawal of approval.

Gaius had always been able to guilt and manipulate him as easily as Nero did Dainty, albeit with far more malicious motivations.

“And your words at the Praetorium, was that merely mouthing off too?” Dainty challenged.

She did not suffer from nightmares, for which she thanked the Twelve but in the months after the Praetorium she had woken up more than once with a chill in her spine and Cid tol Garlond’s threats of vivisection in her mind.

Less because of the threat against her and more because it played into her very real fear of her powers being exploited and used to harm instead of help Eorzea.

Cid tol Garlond shook his head, reaching for his toolbox to continue his work on the steering controls of the Enterprise. They would need to be reinforced to compensate for the weight of the ram.

“Not precisely. Would I have ever carried through with my threats…” His voice caught a little and became imploring. “I like to think not. I like to think I was not yet so corrupted. Knowing what I know now, I absolutely would not have and will never harm you.”

Had he not been removed from the Empire Cid tol Garlond could not truly say and that hurt him deeply.

He had allowed himself to be sweet talked into crossing so many lines and violating so many of his morals by Gaius and the Empire already, knowing full well it was his hands that built weapons that would be used to subjugate.

Who knows what else he might have been coerced into doing by threats of Gaius favoring Livia or Rhitahtyn above Cid himself.

Gaius had known exactly which buttons to press, which insecurities to play upon and which fears to feed into.

Only now that he was removed from the metaphorical forest could Cid tol Garlond perceive the diseased, toxic trees and feel the consequences of the poison he had allowed to be spread.

“Not even on Gaius’ orders?” Dainty pressed, not fully believing the apology. “What if I told you that Gaius van Baelsar was alive but unconscious when I did battle with the Ascian at the Praetorium, and that after I loaded Thancred into the Reaper I turned back for the Black Wolf. Although his discarded armor remained, he was gone. What if he returned and wished to continue where he left off in enslaving Eorzea?”

Cid tol Garlond turned slowly, utterly dumbstruck, to stare at the woman. 

It wasn’t the news that Gaius might yet live that had rendered him mute it was that despite everything the Legatus had subjected Dainty to she still would not have left him there to die.

She took precious seconds from her own escape to attempt to bear a known adversary from safety.

In her nest of pillow and blankets she looked like a child eagerly awaiting a parent bringing her cookies and hot chocolate before bed. Not a Warrior capable of doing battle with an Ascian, or someone mature and compassionate enough to try to save their enemies life.

“You are not joking, are you…” He asked carefully. The tiny part of his mind that could not reconcile her a grown adult when she was so delicate and assumed her a teenager thought that this must surely be a prank. Her paying him back in kind for his “mouthing off”.

“I think I saw a man, on foot, in the shadows just before the Ultima Weapon exploded but I cannot say for sure.” Dainty confirmed. “The “corpse” that were found was nothing more than the empty armor, and Limsa Lominsa creating propaganda to further the Alliances’ political causes. I believe that Gaius van Baelsar is alive and, perhaps due to the Echo, things that I suspect but cannot prove have a tendency of being revealed as the truth.”

Cid admitted to feeling dizzy, sitting on the deck of the Enterprise, staring at Dainty as if she had just announced herself as the Keeper of the Seventh Gate;

“You would have saved Gaius’s life, after all he sought to unleash upon your realm?”

“Subscribe it not to kindness on my part. A man of his strength and resolve would have made a powerful ally against the Ascian’s and, having been so manipulated by one, I perceived a chance that Gaius’ tenacity might be channeled in a way most beneficial for the realm.” Dainty shrugged.

“That fact that you thought that, instead of taking pleasure to see your enemy brought so low suggests a level compassion that few can fathom or boast.”

“If you say so… is there any more brandy?” Dainty asked. She honestly did not think her actions compassionate although the Archons had often told her they were.

Cid tol Garlond was not the first to be flabbergasted by behavior that she considered nothing more than pursuing a tactical advantage. 

“No, there bloody isn’t.” Nero replied in Cid tol Garlond’s stead, climbing up over the side of the Enterprise to reveal he had finished what he needed to do in the repair room. He glanced around to see how little Cid had accomplished so far and scowled. “I told you not to distract him.”

“No, you told me to behave.” Dainty smirked before gesturing at Cid tol Garlond. “His head remains unpunched, therefore, I behaved.”

“You are awful. Why are we friends?” 

“No one else will put up with you.”

“That is a lie and we both know it.” Nero told her. “Garlond, since you can’t be trusted to do your damn work mayhaps you can successfully trot to the Forgotten Knight and fetch a bottle of Gillibront’s finest? With Aymeric footing the bill I don’t think a bottle of something alcoholic to ensure a certain argumentative Au’Ra don’t distract us will be too hard of a sell.”

“I want some fried Icepicks too, extra crispy.” Dainty insisted, willing to be placated.

“You mean burned to charcoal?” Cid tol Garlond questioned. He would never understand the Eorzean obsession with all things over-cooked and barely edible.

“Yes, I like how it crunches.”

“Savages.” Cid muttered under his breath but there was humor to it, taking his queues from the way Dainty and Nero teased one another. He looked at the other Garlean, a smirk on his mouth. “And I was not distracted. I had to fix your calculations before I could begin. Your numbers on the mainline output for the secondary engine are completely over inflated for the amount of degradation the wings have taken. No wonder you keep overcooking the damn engines.”

“I take it back. I liked you better when you just shut up and did as you were told.” Nero scowled, not able to argue because he genuinely hadn’t known why the engines seemed to struggle with anything beyond simple transportation. The one of a kind aether aspected wings should have been compensating more than they were but Nero had not recognized they had lost some of their function.

Cid tol Garlond swung a leg over the side and descended the ladder, eager to get the errand accomplished and already plotting to get two orders of Icepicks for Dainty.

She was looking painfully skinny, not that he really knew what Au’Ra were supposed to look like but Cid was reasonably sure he wasn’t supposed to be able to count her ribs through her clothes.

There was no doubt that despite a wealth of food being available to her at Fortemps Manor she had been so busy she had not been able to take advantage.

Nero watched Cid tol Garlond go before tossing his head to get that 1 blond forelock that seemed to live perpetually in his eyes out of the way and sat himself on the end of Dainty’s makeshift bed.

He gave her a long, level look before finally offering softly;

“Thank you.”

“For what?” Dainty asked with what appeared to be a careless shrug and looking away from that blue gaze. She never did well with expressions of gratitude or tender, emotional conversations.

She would rage and argue with the best of them but being shown kindness made her twitchy.

“Carine Monteil. Tell me the truth, would you have been so quick to jump in front of that blast were you not very aware of my attraction to her?” Nero challenged and Dainty looked down at her empty water bottle.

“Probably not.” She admitted softly, then flicked her eyes back up to Nero’s with a smirk. “Will you actually do something about that attraction now that it’s almost bloody killed me?”

“Yes.” Nero confirmed, then held up one finger. “If she comes to me.”

“Oh for the love of…..” Dainty planted her face in one hand. “Do you really think you’re the one who needs to be wooed here, you narcissistic, ego maniac?”

“I am a narcissist.” Nero agreed, unconcerned for her insults before his tone became challenging once more. “How else do I reassure myself she has the depth of will to stand up to me and my ego?”

Dainty gave him an unimpressed expression, gesturing for him to come closer and Nero glared at her; “Hells No, you’re going to flick me in the ear.”

“You’re damn right I am, you Garlean moron.” Dainty agreed. “Carine has already proven herself more than capable of standing up to you when she nominated herself your newest employee! She showed her hand, inviting herself into your continued presence. She made the first move, you dolt. It’s your sodding turn.”

She had heard the story of how Carine came to be the Ironworks Security detail from Carine upon finding the Ironworks crew in Ishgard and expressing surprise to see the Elezen woman there. 

Carine had been ever so proud of herself and Dainty did not blame her.

Nero frowned, it was that incident that had given him the idea of testing to see if Carine possessed enough bravado to make her desires clear to him. It had not occurred to him that that was the first move of indication that she was doing so.

“If I were to give your theorem credence, which I am not saying I do but if I did, what then, do you supposed, is the second move of this tet-a-tete I have clumsily involved myself in.” Nero had been reconciled to doing nothing more than flirting and playing along, even if it meant tripping on his own feet like an idiot when Carine smiled at him

“How the Seven Hells should I know? I can’t even commit to the same jacket for longer than a week, let alone manage an actual relationship.” Dainty retorted. 

She could count the amount of romantic liaisons she had ever had on 1 hand and even then both of them had been singular incidents that, although satisfying, had never been repeated.

She enjoyed the few friendships she possessed but anything more than that was ignored, or completely repressed in favor of her work as one of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. She always found something else to do, or some excuse not to pursue the callings of her heart.

Nero gave a scowl, assessing her before muttering;

“You’re right. You’re utterly useless.”


	11. ELEVEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carine gets a little liquid courage under her belt.

Starlight in Idyllshire was a strange thing to behold.

The Goblins who had moved in after the great Exodus of the Sharlayan’s had somewhat misinterpreted the Treasure Hunters’ descriptions of Starlight.  
Decorating a Starlight Tree with pretty ornaments had turned into the Goblins decorating every tree with the eclectic assortment of odds and ends they found interesting and valuable up to and including rusted bolts, empty soup cans and a string of bleached white bones. 

Giving gifts on the Starlight moon and enjoying a feast had been warped into gifts of food being given to any and all friends constantly so that the gifts could be feasted upon.

Dainty, who was perpetually hungry and constantly underfed, was absolutely delighted by this perversion of the tradition.

“Favorite uplander!” Brayflox Alltalks greeted the diminutive Warrior. All uplanders were Brayflox’s favorite uplander.

“Favorite gobbiefolk!” Dainty replied, automatically holding out her hands.  
With Thordan dead and Niddhog yet to make a move on Ishgard Dainty had little to worry about at the moment. There were some concerns, the Warriors of Darkness that were moving about the countryside, and the hazy awareness that Nidhogg was off somewhere, plotting something.

But Thancred, Alisaie and Urianger were on the trail of the Warriors of Darkness. Alphinaud and Aymeric would summon her the moment they had a development with the Dreadwyrm.

All she needed to do was enjoy Idyllshire’s pleasant weather and go on the occasional Adventure (sometimes with Carine Montiel even, which Dainty enjoyed very much) for the Treasure Hunters and the Goblins and eat a whole lot of Gobfolk gifts.

A small wrapped parcel of cookies was dispensed into Dainty’s gleeful hands and she returned the gift with a highly polished piece of broken brass rail from St Morcianne’s Arboretum. 

Brayflox looked delighted with what anyone else would have assumed was nothing more than junk.

“Thanking Uplander muchly! Making of new screws for nibs and nobs now possible!”

“You’re welcome, Brayflox.” Dainty smiled, already pulling open the package of cookies and cramming one in her mouth before gagging, and coughing, clapping a hand across her mouth to prevent herself from accidentally spitting the cookie into the Goblins’ face.

“Brayflox make much good with the drinky stuffs, yes? Uplander said too weak last time. Brayflox not make weak again.”

“Yes…yes… very good Brayflox.” Dainty managed, desperately chewing and managing to force the cookie down. 

Brayflox beamed with pride before heading off for her workshop to make use of the piece of brass Dainty had brought her as the Au’Ra fanned her mouth desperately to try and cure the alcohol burn.

“You ok, Dainty?” Carine Monteil asked.

“Nibble the corner of that, gently.” Dainty grinned, offering Carine one of the cookies. The tall, white haired Elezen woman did and gasped, eyes half bugging out of her head.  
“Seven Hells, what did she do, distill pure alcohol into them?!”

“I don’t know but I know I’m getting buzzed for the afternoon apparently.” Dainty giggled, her tone low and conspiratorial as she took another bite of cookie.

“You and me both.” Carine grinned, carefully breaking a cookie in two. She doubted she would need more than half of one to feel it they were so heavily imbued with the intoxicant.  
With the Scaevan Ironworks now stationed in Idyllshire, Nero’s ego had been ever so flattered to be recognized by the Goblins and asked for his help in teaching them how to improve some of their devices, Carine had much less to worry about than she had in Ishgard.

None of the Goblins cared in the slightest what a “Garlean” was above the face that those designated as Garleans seemed to be outstanding tinkerers from who the Goblins could learn many uplander secrets.

The treasure hunters, of whom quite a few were female, had no objections what-so-ever to several attractive, muscular pure bloods taking up residence in the former Sharlayan outpost. The eyes Midnight Dew in particular had been giving Nero would have been trying Carine’s temper, except for the fact that the blond utterly ignored it.

Carine still wasn’t sure why Nero had not fully asked her out, although she had a theory it was due to a subconscious fear of rejection, her Mother had suggested as much in a letter upon the subject. 

Carine did not wish to intrude upon Nero’s friendship with Dainty by asking the Au’Ra for advice, respecting that the delicate Warrior would always be Nero’s friend first. 

Instead, Carine had devised a simple plan to approach Nero herself.

It was Starlight, after all.

She just needed to get him somewhere alone and work up the courage to actually go through with it.

Carine and Dainty settled in by one of the campfires in the Ironworks encampment to share the cookies.  
“Miss Dainty.” One of the Ironworks employees, a lanky youth named Phillot, gave them a respectful salute as they took up seats on a stack of crates before turning back to where he was quietly heating up copper joins in order to weld together two halves of mold that would later be used to repair the Enterprise’s unique wings.

It had taken more than a little damage in Ishgard and in the course of baring Dainty to Azys Lla to prevent Thordan from becoming a Primal Tyrant. 

Aymeric had seen the Ironworks compensated well, however, meaning the entire company could be devoted to rebuilding and upgrading the airship under Nero and Cid’s argumentative directions.

“Discussions” in their native Garlean tongue had been frequent, and vulgar enough that the Ironworks crew absolutely refused to translate them when Carine asked, although would do so with awkward blushes if Dainty pressed them.

Carine had quickly realized that while Nero did not; quite a few of the Ironworks employees were nursing crushes on Dainty, unsurprisingly, for many of them Dainty was the first Eorzean they had met after defection from Garlemald and she had welcomed them with well wishes, a bow and a gift.

This list of those sporting a crush of the fiery tempered Warrior of light included, to Carine’s abject amusement, Cid tol Garlond.

The white haired former Imperial Tribunus was on the far other side of the camp, building a fire around a container of cernuleum. It needed to be superheated rapidly into its gas form and the most effective way of doing that without the use of a pressure chamber, a technology that did not exist outside of Garlemald, was to soak the canister in flammable oil and then build a bonfire around it.

The Goblins thankfully had a large amount of what they called “boom oil” that they would happily part with quite cheaply.

The man’s very blue eyes flicked in their direction and, seeing Dainty laughing with Carine, smiled a little to himself, his eyes lingering on Dainty.  
Rowena over at the House of Splendors had gifted Dainty a pretty woolen dress and matched corset. It was not altruistic, the tradeswoman no doubt wanted the advertisement of the Warrior if Light wearing her wares.

Dainty was personally not particularly a fan of the floofy dress, but she didn’t mind the corset. She had put the ensemble on for the day all the same.  
It was Starlight after all.

Cid tol Garlond had never seen her dressed so femininely and, despite telling himself firmly several times to stop it, his blue eyes were lingering on her.

It was just so fascinating, all that power, and all that strength and those huge, endless limbal ringed eyes. 

He struggled to remember how he had ever thought of her as a child, the faintest hint of perfectly ample cleavage just peeking out of the modest neckline of the dress.

Her tiny waist enhanced by the corset.

Cid tol Garlond was reasonably sure he could put his hands around Dainty’s middle and have his fingers touch.

A steady diet of baked goods from the Goblins and a month complete of idleness as they waited for Nidhogg to make the first move in the Dragonsong War had done Dainty a wealth of good. 

She no longer looked so dreadfully skinny to Cid’s eyes.

She was petite, certainly and always would be, Au’Ra were delicate and finely built but her mint green hair shone in the sunlight, her cheeks flushed prettily as she laughed with Carine.

It was no longer Dainty's powers that Cid tol Garlond wanted to study or possess. It was Dainty.

He wasn’t sure when his begrudging respect for her had blossomed into a full-blown crush but the seeds had been planted when he learned of her compassion towards Gaius at the Praetorium. 

He had told himself a hundred times that it was beneath him, that he was absolutely not indulging in fantasies about her, yet his mental scolding was in vain.

The second he looked at her he would find his imagination suddenly swimming with what she might feel like in his arms.   
Were her scales soft, or hard? Did they have the same sensation as skin, could they be teased and tormented with fingertips and kisses?

He could almost feel her there, the waking dream was so intense, picturing her playfully resisting as his hands pulled her beneath him, giving up with a soft sigh, splaying her legs apart so that he could take her.

Cid tol Garlond almost groaned aloud at the mere thought of it, tantalizing as it was, the thought of hands on wrists and his body between her legs.

He wondered if she liked it hard, perhaps she would need it that way to achieve release. She could take hits from dragons and walk away, after all. Or mayhaps she preferred a gentle touch, body and soul craving the intimacy and tenderness she was not able to show anywhere else but in the privacy of a lover’s bed. The thought she might even be shy, and unsure struck him.   
It wouldn’t be unheard of for someone who had devoted their lives so exclusively to a singular craft and focus to have forsaken all else in their quest towards that goal.

Stop it ... no. I am not doing this. I am not fantasizing about that damned woman – Cid tol Garlond insisted to himself, knowing full well it was lies and desperately trying to bring his thoughts back to the tank of cenuleum and the bonfire he was building.

He needed to get this done, without distractions. They could not proceed with rebuilding the wings until he did, but his mind was awash with Dainty.

Not just dirty thoughts either, he suddenly ached to see what she looked like in a silk dress, her hair twisted with flowers or pearls, like a Garlean lady might wear to a night at the theater. 

His mouth wanted her soft kisses and his arms wanted to hold her, relaxed in sleep. 

He wanted to possess her and own her and control her and worship her and revere her and protect her and be anything and everything she wanted and needed and with a soft groan Cid knew he was utterly infatuated with her. 

And that he could never tell a soul. Nero would never let him live it down and there was not a moment of doubt that the sentiments would go unreturned.

Cid forced himself to focus on his task, shrugging out of his jacket as he was suddenly over heated.

“Would you like some Crimson Cider, Miss Dainty?” Aeneas, another one of the Ironworks asked, offering her a glass from the jug he carried. Despite his size and strength marking him as Garlean he possessed no 3rd eye, unlike the others, suggesting his parent were a Highlander Hyur, rather than another Garlean. 

The missing eye had led to no small amount of discrimination in Garlemald although the Ironworks was happy to have the fellows’ uncanny knack for potions and alchemy at its disposal.

“Oh, yes please.” Dainty smiled, accepting the glass. 

Carine apparently had to get her own, the man barely even realizing she was there he was so besotted with Dainty, which made Carine giggle as she careful ate a little more of the alcoholic cookie.

“Oh look, Dainty is half drunk and being fawned over by the Ironworks. How shocking.” Y’Shtola purred, teasing and sarcastic, strolling into the camp.  
She had warmed up considerably to the Goblins and Treasure Hunters having taken over her former home and, after having been lost to the Lifestream, was doing her best to appreciate every day granted to her in general.

“Here, nibble this.” Dainty said, offering Y’shtola a cookie. The white-haired conjurer failed to heed the warnings, taking a delicate but significant bite and quickly gagging, gray, light-less eyes almost bugging out of her head as she coughed several times.

“Mephina’s bosom! What is that?!” The mi’qote exclaimed, coughing a little.

“No idea, Brayflox made ‘em.” Dainty grinned, a slur to her words as the potent alcohol entered her bloodstream. 

“Good grief.” Y’shtola muttered weakly. 

“Give it back if you don’t want it then.” Dainty laughed reaching around Carine for the cookie which Y’Shtola whisked out of the mint green haired woman’s grasp.

“I never said that.” Y’shtola grinned, settling in next to Carine and nibbling on the cookie with all due care this time. “Goblins, amazing folk, really.”

Her words proved to be a premonition as, in short order, 2 of the beastmen wandered by, instantly untying neatly wrapped packages of food from their belts to present to the uplanders with happy chorus’ of “for Starlight!”

Carine, who had received a care package from her sister, was able to trade the dented, damaged fruits that had not survived the Moogle post. For reasons she had yet to fathom the Goblins preferred the fruits that had already started to spoil, insisting that they “burned better.” 

Dainty had also taken to hoarding bits of metal, semi-precious gemstones, seeds and even old tomestones in her pockets for gift giving with the Goblins and surreptitiously passed two of these to Y’shtola behind Carine’s back, correctly guessing the mi’qote would not be carrying Gobby appropriate knick-knacks.

The Goblins had interpreted the act of giving gifts to your loved ones and friends to mean that, if they were not given a gift in return it meant that you were not friends with them, which was cause for much alarm, and flailing and questions of how they had given uplander such offense.

The peoples of Idyllshire had quickly realized it was safer to just keep a plethora of junk close by at all times.  
Y’Shtola was feeling quite merry by the time she had finished her cookie, Carine had dared to risk eating the other half of hers and Dainty had polished off the last 3.

Y’Shtola’s eyes, blind in the traditional sense but able to “see” by sensing aether, wandered across the yard, watching the Ironworks crew’s work, assisted by eager Gobfolk who were only too happy to learn how to build Airships.

Her eyes lit on Cid tol Garlond, the man had worked up a sweat apparently as he had removed his shirt, a large log braced against his shoulders as he hefted it out the way for fear of it catching aflame once he set off the bonfire.

“I will deny saying this if ever questioned…” Y’Shtola began in a purr “… but damn, that man.”

Dainty followed her line of sight, watching Cid tol Garlond set down the log, the muscles of his back rippling with the effort of placing it nicely, rather than just letting it fall.

She said nothing but privately did not disagree with Y’Shtola’s statement. She would even admit to having through him cute before she learned his true identity as the Highest Ranking Tribunus of the XIVth Legion.

Still, it was not worth dwelling on.   
Handsome or not, he was a former Imperial. He continued to use the title “tol” in his name, after all when almost all else dropped it to follow Eorzeon naming protocols.

“Mmmmm a bit short for me.” Carine observed. Cid was technically taller than the Elezen woman but only just. She much preferred the preposterously tall Nero.

“Some of us aren’t related to dhamels, Carine.” Y’Shtola teased earning a snort of amusement from Dainty.

“What do you think, Dainty?” Carine gave the Au’Ra a nudge, seeing that the woman’s dark magenta eyes with their candle light orange limbal rings were lingering on Cid tol Garlond.

“Oh Dainty will say the same thing she always does.” Y’Shtola commented, tapping her knuckles against her cheek and imitating Dainty’s husky, ever so faint Lominsan accent. “I will be loyal to no man above Hydaelyn’s children.”

“I do not believe I have ever spoke such lofty words.” Dainty corrected, opening one of her packages from the Goblins. More cookies, although a quick sniff proved these ones weren’t alcoholic. She gave them to Carine who was collecting the baked treats in order to send her sister, Violaine, a return care package.

Carine knew her Mother especially would get a kick out of the odd assortment of foodstuffs the Goblins created. Elaine Montiel was a very good cook and always enjoyed trying new flavor combinations that might be incorporated in her own recipes.  
“Alright, you might not have spoken them, but you definitely thought them.” Y’Shtola accused playfully.

“Like you can talk Ms Who needs men, I’ve got my conjuring wand and a handy little spell to make it vibrate.” Dainty retorted in equally playful tones.

“Dainty!”

“Oh! Dainty!”  
Both Carine and Y’Shtola greeted her comment with matched scandalized expressions, making the Au’Ra smirk.

“Something the matter over here?” Nero asked carefully, approaching from where he had been chatting with Midnight Dew, attempting to parlay his skills as an Engineer into getting his hands on some of the rare seeds that Dainty had retrieved from St Mocianne’s for the Roegadyn Treasure hunter.

“Dainty and Y’Shtola were… tee hee… having an argument about who … hehehe… is the more frigid and I think Dainty…. tehehehe… just won it.” Carine managed through ill suppressed giggles before breaking into outright laughter.

“1. this sounds like a conversation I want no part of. 2. Carine Montiel, are you drinking on the job?” Nero asked, eyebrows arched over his very blue eyes imperiously.

“Nope. Not a single drop of alcoholic liquid has crossed these lips.” Carine replied confidently, standing so that she could easier look the blond Garlean in the eyes. She wasn’t lying. She had eaten her alcohol not drunk it.

Dainty and Y’Shtola snickered and Nero shook his head, he had known Y’Shtola almost as long as he had known Dainty and if the pair were up to something it was likely safer to remove himself from their presence promptly.

He absolutely still recalled that time he had been sweet talked into letting Dainty play urban explorer with her Echo and his missing memories. There were things in his head he would rather have left forgotten, even if the adventure had ended up being the cornerstone of their close friendship.

“Try not to distract the Ironworks worse than you already are.” Nero scolded, mostly joking before heading for the buildings the Ironworks had pressed into service as sleeping quarters, Carine pausing for half a moment, then following after with a little smile thrown over her shoulder at Dainty.

“Hmmm and what was that about?” Y’Shtola questioned, catching Carine’s rather ribald smile.

“Oh, you’ll see.” Dainty grinned, not entirely sure but able to take a guess that Carine had acquired enough alcohol courage to make good on her flirting with Nero. She began weaving a teleportation spell to take her to one of the Aytherytes in Gridania. “In the meantime, I’ve an appointment to keep. I’ll be back for dinner.”

Y’Shtola knew better than to scold Dainty not to teleport while drunk, the Au’Ra had been doing it for years to no ill effects while anyone else would end up with their torso in La Noscea and their legs in Othard.

“You better be, I am not risking Gobfolk cooked Starlight dinner alone.”


	12. TWELVE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carine Montiel and Nero nan Scaeva get a whole lot better acquainted.

“Master Scaeva!” Carine called, running quickly after Nero and, when he paused by the door way to the room he had claimed as his own, bolding strolling right in.

Nero’s blue eyes followed her, slightly narrowed in suspicion, still not entirely sure she wasn’t drunk.

Such boldness simultaneously was and wasn’t out of character for the pretty Elezen. On one hand, she had done so before, admitting herself to the tent he was convalescing in and talking herself into a job.

On the other, in the past months she had been employed by the Scaevan Ironworks she had toyed the line of an employee most diligently. There was the occasional flirting, here and there but nothing that would push the boundary of appropriate behavior.

Not like strolling directly into her boss’ private chambers.

“Can I help you, Miss Carine?” Nero asked carefully, taking care not to close his fingers in the door as he stepped inside and shut the door behind him. He did have a tendency to become clumsy around her because his mind had hyper focused in on how nice her lips were.

“I’ve come to give you your Starlight present.” Carine announced with a little smirk and bouncing on her toes with excitement.

“Ah, I see.” Nero frowned a little. “I cannot reciprocate. If you’ve hopes of it, dash them now as I make a point not to get any one employee anything if I cannot get everyone something.”

“Well that is entirely understandable.” Carine replied, smothering her disappointment with a bright smile.

Nero held out his hand for whatever gift she felt she needed to dispense and she grinned, shaking her head and making her long white hair dance.

“Uh uh. You have to sit on the bed and close your eyes.”

Nero gave a soft laugh, he had a feeling he knew where this was going and wasn’t going to protest if it was. He had promised Dainty so faithfully he would not refuse Carine’s advances if she came to him, after all.

Despite the niggling insecurity that told him he ought order the woman from his bedroom.

He moved to sit, then paused to fish a small, wrapped package from his pocket.

“Oh, here. Pygmy Thavnair Onion seeds for your sister’s garden. They are notoriously difficult to grow but are just the thing for fussy chocobos.” Nero observed, earning him a look he wasn’t quite sure how to interpret from Carine.

Carine was both touched and flattered that he had remembered the conversation, and entrusted her sister with valuable, hard to grow seeds based solely on her stories of Violaine being able to cultivate almost anything from the soil and her complaints that her Mothers’ chocobos would turn their beaks up at almost anything but krakka roots.

It only strengthened her resolve for what would come next.  
“Sit, sit.” Carine encouraged.

Nero did so, obediently closing his eyes, which amused Carine because Nero rarely did anything obediently unless he was quite certain there was something in it for him. Her confidence again spiked up a touch, certain the Garlean had at least an inkling of her intentions if he had not guessed them outright.

Nero felt weight settle across his legs, and a pair of arms curl around his neck and smirked outright despite his closed eyes.

“Ok. Open.”

Nero did, and found that, as suspected, he had acquired a lapful of winsome Elezen, Carine’s mouth hovering near to his own.

“Admittedly I was not expecting you to be topless.”

Carine giggled, cheeks flushed with embarrassment but determination in her violet eyes. She did not want to be misunderstood as to her desires and intentions and, oddly enough, the alcoholic cookie was telling her that taking her top off seemed the easiest option to get her point across.

His hands raised, stroking up her bare back to settle just below her shoulder bones, holding her tenderly.

“Happy Starlight.” Carine offered softly.

“It’s about to be.” Nero agreed before hesitating just a moment; “Carine, is this your first time?”

A new blush flared on her cheeks. He had suspected, he just wanted to know for sure.  
“Yes, is that a problem?” she asked, tone a touch defensive, feeling heat in the tips of her pointed ears.

“Not in the slightest” Nero replied.  
She was in love with the intensity in his blue stare, unable to look away from it and raised one hand to rub her palm against the faint growth of blond stubble on Nero's cheeks.

He grinned at her touch, fire and hesitation dancing in those Garlean blue eyes but not dis confidence, Carine suspected. He was taking his time to decide what he was going to do next.  
That question was answered in just a few short breaths before Nero leaned in, kissing her. 

oh…sodding…finally! – Carine had been dying to kiss him since the first moment he had strolled oh-so-casually into Saint Coinach’s Find and introduced himself to Rammbroes. As if they weren’t already palpably aware of who Nero nan Scaeva was.  
Her arms tightened around his shoulders, melting into the kiss entirely.  
One hand found her waist, lingering there for a moment as their kisses grew deeper, and more passionate.

The other joined it before Carine found herself lifted, spun and pressed down onto the bed, Nero climbing on top of her almost instantly.

She smiled hazily with passion drunk violet eyes lingering on his handsome features, reaching for him.

“I was waiting for that.” Carine purred.

“For what?”

“You to take control. Your ego wouldn’t leave me a top you for long.”

“…..slightly offended.”

Carine giggled, smoothing her hands through his blond hair and arching her body into him, craning her neck a little to capture his mouth.

Nero quickly decided he wasn’t that offended, her lips against his. The kiss, so sweet and gentle to begin, rapidly becoming more intense as the mutual desire both had been refusing to indulge in began to simmer.  
Carine felt a groan of pleasure rumble through Nero, unbidden, escaping him before he had a chance to suppress it.

She knew how he felt, her mind hazy.  
Her eyes had closed at some point, her lips had parted to feel the slip of his tongue brush hers. His hands felt so warm on her skin and she arched, pulling herself into him, smoothing one hand up his spine, reminding him that he was still wearing his jacket.

The same thought must have occurred to Nero as he paused, sitting back on his heels a moment to shrug out of the black and red tunic, and remove the undershirt beneath it so that he too was topless.

Passion danced in Carine's eyes, watching him undress. She should have been nervous, she was certain of it. She should have been embarrassed to be topless in front of someone for the first time in her life, but she didn't feel anything other than a hyper awareness of Nero as a man and an odd emptiness at her core.  
Nero leaned in to kiss her again and Carine ran his hands up his hard chest, feeling all the muscle beneath the warmth of his skin. Finding little scars here and there were forging fires and magitek projects had gotten away from him.

Feeling the strength of him.  
The longer they kissed the hazier her mind got and the emptiness at her core turned into a small throb.

You are in trouble in he can turn you on this much with just kisses- Carine told herself, well aware he had not even put his hands anywhere other than her waist and dying for him to do so.

"Touch me." Carine murmured against his lips, hands moving to unbutton the first snap of Nero's simple black pants.  
It was the permission he’d been instinctively waiting for, aware she was several summers younger than himself and subconsciously making sure she was comfortable before progressing. He was in control of himself for the moment.

Nero pressed his face into Carine's neck, drawing lips and tongue slowly down the pale column and feeling her give a ticklish squirm below him in response.

"hummm." Carine gave a little sigh, then gasped sharply at the little nip of her sensitive skin that was immediately soothed with Nero's tongue.

There’s something about the action that turned her on beyond anything she had felt before, perhaps ever.

The pure desire to consume her.  
She responded by grinding her hips against his groin wantonly, feeling hardness even through the fabric of his pants. Nero groaned in response and his hot mouth moved towards her breasts at long last.

Carine breathed heavily in anticipation, biting her lip as his tongue and lips moved tantalizingly, heart stopping slowly southwards, flicking over collarbones and dipping into the valley between her breasts

Nero cupped her soft flesh gently, feeling her nipple harden against his palm as his mouth gently mumbled kisses onto the other.

Carine fully shuddered at the sensation, eyes tightly closed and struggling to find form with her thoughts. His timing really was impeccable.

If he had done that a moment sooner it might not have provoked such a powerful response, Carine realized as Nero played her body expertly.

She ran her hands through his gorgeous blond hair, melting into the sensations and feeling the scrape of his stubble against her soft skin.  
Nero's hands seemed to be everywhere at once.

Had she had more of her wits about her Carine might have made the obvious joke about Engineers being good with his hands but all she could manage to process at that moment was that every inch of her skin seemed to be begging for his touch.

And he seemed dead set on satisfying it.

Ticklish strokes at her ribs, worshiping her breasts with kisses.

Carine did not know it but Nero had long mental list of all the places he wanted to touch and kiss on her body and been slowly adding to it since the day he had met her.

The way she had burst into camp at Saint Coinach's Find and excitedly informed him of having found a piece of Allagans text referring to the Crystal Tower before she ever remembered to give him her name had utterly enthralled him.

Nothing had been more important to her in that moment but furthering her knowledge and to Nero, nothing could have been more beautiful.

His fingertips painted tiny, teasing swirls on her hips and, when she did not protest, moved to the waist band of her pants.

Carine automatically lifted her hips to aid the removal of the garment, eyes popping open to give Nero a rather lascivious grin, which he answered in kind, slowly drawing her garments down her legs.

She had never been so grateful in her life to be wearing her easily removed slip on boots rather than lace up ones, as everything was slid from her body neatly, leaving her naked.

Her breath caught in her throat half a second. Doubt and nerves suddenly breaking through the arousal haze.

Her alcohol courage was failing her.

Was she really doing this? What would her Mother say? They hadn't even discussed commitment yet and she was wantonly going to bed with him.

Carine tried to shove the thoughts down, biting her lip and closing her eyes for a moment.  
She wanted this. She had wanted this for so long.  
She would not let the doubt that had always stopped her in the past intrude now.  
There was a reason it had taken her this long to approach him, after all, always hoping he would take charge of the flirtatious situation between them.  
Nero moved away from her and Carine heard the sound of a zipper being undone, fabric falling to the ground, dragging her eyes open to look at him.

Her mouth popped open a little, trying and failing not to actually ogle his naked form. Y'Shtola's words popped into her head.  
Damn, that man.  
Her expression transformed full lipped smile, dragging her eyes over him.  
"Like what you see?" Nero teased softly at her expression.  
"yes!" Carine squeaked, not meaning to sound like a timid little mouse but Gods had someone chiseled him from stone? He was perfect.  
Nero returned to the bed slowly, movement controlled and unhurried, sensing her nervousness. He had no doubt that she wanted him, he also had no doubt she wasn't even close to as experienced as him.

If she wanted to call it off he wouldn't begrudge her, as disappointing as that would be at the moment the only words that would leave his lips would be an offer to fetch her a soothing hot chocolate.

Carine reached for him eagerly instead, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him into a desperate kiss, wanting to be distracted from her doubts.

"I... I need you to ... not hesitate..." Carine managed to mumble against his mouth, stroking her hands down his back and grabbing his backside, in case he didn't catch her meaning. "I want you... I just...."

If he asked if she wanted to stop, she'd say yes; not because she actually wanted to stop but because some niggling little awful thought that sounded like her Mother was telling her that she ought to.

She had been raised on a lifetime of her Ishgardian's Mothers' notion that marriage comes first, after all. She did not agree with such restrictive beliefs it still tempered her actions despite her desires and intentions.

"Shhhh." Nero soothed, kissing her, and brushing his thumb along her cheekbone gently. He knew what she was. He had asked for clarification earlier for a reason.

For a long time he kissed her, just kisses, just letting their naked bodies linger against one another.

Letting hands, his and hers, stroke through hair and fingertips glide over skin.

Ignoring the fact he was achingly hard was starting to get difficult but still Nero did not rush. Not when the reward for patience was so sweet.  
Carine could feel his cock, hot and hard against her leg as he planted kisses on her lips, shivering a little in anticipation.

Just as before, when he had taken his time to actually caress her naked breasts, she knew the timing would be perfect.

He was an Engineer, after all.

Finally, after what seemed like a rather pleasurable eternity his touches at her legs grew more insisted.

Carine moved her legs up and out at the direction of his hands and felt his cock press up against her heated core as her reward.

Her pulse spiked, keenly away of that throb in her core. She'd almost forgotten in her doubts but all of a sudden it was back with abandon.

She bit her lip for what felt like the 100th time, she couldn't help it. The anticipation and her own eagerness was killing her.

"Bruised lips will prevent further kisses." Nero scolded, tone very wicked and playful. Carine liked it very much, pulling him in for one of those kisses that he threatened to withhold despite having had so many already.

His mouth worked hers, savoring the kisses given back and forth and trying to distract her a little from any nervousness still she might be feeling.

Carine felt the tip of his cock touch his folds, stroking up and down her slit for a moment to ensure he was good and slick with her wetness.

Carine tensed and relaxed in a heart beat, clutching her arms around Nero's shoulders and just holding on for dear life.

Nero pushed himself inside Carine sharply. The feeling arched her head back and she cried out loudly.  
Nero silenced her with another passionate kiss as his hands went around her hips, pulling her towards him as he pushed forwards until he was buried within her to the hilt.

"Oh! Nero!" she gasped, fingernails digging in just a touch at the sudden overwhelming sensation. 

“Well that sure as Hells wasn't a noise of pain.” Nero murmured with a rather egotistical smirk.

“Never!” Carine managed to gasp before he started to move within her and speech became an impossibility. 

She thought she knew what to expect, it might have been her first time but she knew was sex was and Carine would admit to having fantasized about being in bed with Nero a time or two.

She hadn't expected him to be so... controlled... or precise.  
Carine hadn't thought he would be so attentive. The way his hands curled into her soft white hair or how his stubble grazed her skin deliciously as he dragged his mouth along her neck and shoulders.

Teasing her with kisses and soft bites. All of the while sliding himself firmly into her, fucking her with an intensity she had not expected.

Intensity was the right word. It wasn't rough, or hard, she was too inexperienced for that but it wasn't tentative either.

Every action he made on her and in her, his kisses and touches conveyed absolutely that she was the hottest thing he had ever touched.  
She couldn't keep up and she loved it.  
Carine pushed her hips up against each of his powerful thrusts into her.

Nero grunted, responding to her instinctual reactions by sliding an arm beneath her hips and fully lifting her lower body off the bed.

The sudden change in angle slammed sensation through Carine enough to cry out.

"Oh Gods!"

She didn't mean to yell, she just couldn't help it. Fully moaning, wondering who was making that noise, then realizing it was her.  
Her back arched, hands forming fists in his hair unthinkingly at how good it all felt. "Gods...Nero!"  
Firmly, yet not forcefully, he kissed her, drinking in the noises she was making with a smirk.

Her pleasured sighs and gasps sounded like nothing any other woman had ever made for him before.

Her musical gift as a bard wholly represented in the way she cried out when having sex.  
She screamed for him and sung for him, all the while feeling her whole body shake from how he was fucking her. The bed head clattered against the wall but they were only distantly aware of it, Carine only vaguely realizing the growls of desire she could hear was coming from the mouth of Nero.

He was losing control but refused to give in before she did.  
His mouth found her neck, again nipping the soft skin in that way she had enjoyed so much earlier.

Carine didn't know what had come over her, those bites should have hurt, she should have been protesting the oh-so-pleasurable little stabs of pain but with each scrape of teeth she felt her body tensing for a release.  
“NE~RO!” She shrieked through the waves of orgasm that hit her, her body failing and unwittingly fully yanking on his hair. Not that Nero was in any state to complain as her cunt contracted around his hard cock.

He was watching Carine's beautiful mouth move wordlessly, the ability to make sound lost to her for a time but still trying to mindlessly shriek his name.  
Nero made a deep, powerful grunting noise as he found his own release, utterly in love with the pleasured and astounded expression on Carine's face.

She didn’t move, feeling the hot splash inside her of his cum. She couldn't move, he was still holding her hips and besides, her brain had been completely reduced to white and pleasure.  
The buzz of reaching such an intense orgasm in her mind.  
Softly, ever so gently Nero lowered her hips back to the bed and withdrew from her, popping Carine's violet eyes open.

"Oops! Sorry!" she suddenly realized she still had two fists full of his hair and untensed her hands quickly, discovering they were shaking as she held them to her chest gently.

"Miss Carine, never ever apologize for cuming for me like that." Nero scolded with a gentle laugh.

"Still...Miss... Carine?" the Elezen giggled, pouting softly.

"You are still my employee." Nero reminded her, more or less collapsing to the bed beside her. She instantly rolled over to snuggle up to him and he put an arm around her in response, lips tenderly brushing her forehead before he fully relaxed with a groan.

It had been a while since he had used some of those muscle groups. His abdominal muscles, in particular, were going to protest that romp tomorrow. Fortunately, it seemed like Carine wouldn't mind their working on their stamina together.

"I quit. I quit so badly if it means you'll say my name properly." Carine replied against his skin, amused.

"You may not. I can't afford to replace you." Nero snorted.

He had no problem dating an employee if she had no issues dating her boss.  
The terms of her employment were very loose, after all. 

So long as she was around the Ironworks to keep them safe, with occasional side jobs as an Adventurer for Hire to supplement her income, Nero had not really ever taken the time to define her responsibilities.

He never had to. They both knew, deep down, that Dainty had been right all along. Carine had only taken the job to be near to Nero.

"Besides, I'm not a Miss anymore!" Carine teased, trailing her fingers up his bare chest, admiring each plane and curve of muscle before giving a sigh and snuggling in tighter.

"Guilty." Nero chuckled. He'd wear that badge with pride.

She looked up into his blue eyes, hoping to see some of the affection she could hear in his voice. She was rewarded with a soft smile that she returned back to him. It wasn't enough. She wanted more. She needed more.

More kisses, more touches. More him.

“Do you think they will miss us at dinner if we just.... stayed here?” Carine asked softly.

"Probably but ask me if I care.... Carine" Nero purred her name, realizing she was angling for another round and more than happy to provide, his sore muscles be damned.

Carine grinned and leaned up to kiss him. It was the only answer she needed.


	13. THIRTEEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dainty meets some old friends of a certain Tribunus and her take-no-shit attitude doesn't earn her any friends

A small bar in the middle of nowhere in the Black Shroud was not generally a place such esteemed personages as the Warrior of Light was usually to be found.

Yet there she was, casually leaning against the grubby, liquor stained bar of Buscarron's Druthers and swapping stories with the barkeep as if it were the most natural thing in the world. 

Buscarron had the pleasure of having known Dainty when she could still be described as “green” and very much enjoyed recounting the story of the time the Warrior of Light had doused a couple hot headed customers with buckets of water the quell a fight.

The rag-tag assembly of patrons, mostly mercenaries and bounty hunters, gave the woman a wide berth and suspicious looks over the rims of their shot-glasses and tankards.

People came for the cheap grog, but stayed for the camaraderie. The addition of such an unknown entity as the famed Warrior of Light to the location for the evening was making people nervous. Bad things tended to be going on in the very nearby vicinity if the Warrior of Light was about.

No matter how casual she looked that evening in her pretty dress, a light smile on her face as she sipped a beer from a tankard almost as large as her head, unaverred by the cheap, bitter grog.

She may have seemed not to care about the splintered and broken furniture and dirty floor but her expensive woolen dress and the huge, Primal born axe on her back marked her as stunningly out of place. Her gaze too, was locked in on the door like a hawk, belying her nonchalant pose.

The second the pair shuffled in, cloaked as so many others in the bar were, she was pushing away from the bar to approach them.

The larger, a Roegadyn by his size, started at seeing the Au’Ra striding towards them but there was no point attempting to flee.

“I hear you’re in possession of a miniature, single occupant airship?” Dainty spoke without preamble, addressing the Lalafell and Roegadyn equally, who shared a quick glance.

“Aye, miss.” the Lalafell nodded carefully. “It ain’t for sale though.” 

It was common knowledge around these parts and the Warrior of Light wasn’t the first person to express interest in the unique mode of transportation. They sold bits and pieces of the design when gil was lean although their true goal was to eventually mass produce the airship.

Dainty smiled, pleased that she had found the correct personages.

“Have a drink with me.” She ordered, gesturing to an unclaimed table. It wasn’t an offer, it was a command that the pair didn’t feel at liberty to disobey. They moved to the table, Dainty throwing a small grin to Buscarron. “Ales.” she glanced at the pair as they settled themselves in place and noted the hollows beneath the Roegadyn’s cheeks. “And stew. As much as you’ve got.”

The barkeep knew Dainty was good for the coin. The contents of her purse could have purchased the entire bar, building and all. 

“Generous of you, miss ….?” He knew her name, everyone knew her name. He just wasn’t sure he was at liberty to address her by it.

“Dainty. You are Biggs,” The Au’Ra nodded to the Roegadyn before turning to the Lalafell “…and you are Wedge.”

“Engineers and Tinkerers Extraordinaire, that’s us.” Wedge agreed. “You got it, we can fix it!”

“Also known as the former shop-hands of the Highest Ranking Tribunus Laticlavus of the XIV legion, Cid tol Garlond.” Dainty added taking a sip of her drink and watched the colour drain from Biggs’ face.

Tankards and bowls of stew being brought to the table prevented either man from responding for several moments.

The barkeep had wisely realized the stew was not for Dainty’s benefit and brought only two, giant, bowls, which he set in front of Biggs and Wedge before leaving them with massive tankards of ale and departing.  
“How…. how did you know that?” Wedge asked weakly. They had taken such pains to conceal their former allegiances. They had spoken to no one of their past after crash landing in Eorzea.  
For Dainty to have such precise knowledge, down to even the title of their former Chief, was shocking.

“Eat. You look half starved.” Dainty encouraged, lifting her tankard with a smile and not answering the question. It was hard to explain how she had come to witness their defection from Garlemald alongside Nero nan Scaeva if they weren’t already familiar with her Echo.

So she simply didn’t bother trying. “Do you know what happened at the Praetorium?”

“A little…. We try not t’keep any association with our pasts. What with all things Garlean bein’ as reviled as they are. Th’ Scaevan Ironworks excepted.” Biggs admitted, his stomach gurgling loudly in anticipation of the first solid meal he had had in days. Wedge had started slurping down his stew eagerly. “The Alliance announced it a decisive victory. That were good enough f’r us.”

The Warrior of Light’s friendship with the Ironworks was well known, after all. There was no need to risk the woman taking offense by insulting that company.

“We did hear that someone went and blew it up with an Allagans Weapon.” Wedge added.

“That someone would be Cid tol Garlond.” Dainty explained and earned herself a set of shocked looks. She rested her head on her hands, elbows on the table, her orange and dark magenta gaze very sharp despite the alcohol in her blood stream.

“Oh Chief.” Wedge looked miserably into his stew, assuming the man to be dead. “We knew, I mean, we didn’t know for sure but… we figured.”

“He weren’t like the other Imperials, Miss Dainty. I swear it, no matter what you mighta seen that day. He never was till his Father died and Gaius van Baelsar volunteered himself as replacement.” Biggs agreed sadly.

Their unhappy reactions surprised Dainty. She hadn’t been sure what to expect but she had not necessarily expected them to actually, if unnecessarily, grieve the man.  
“What happened the day you left Garlemald?” Dainty questioned. “How did Nero nan Scaeva come to possess the Enterprise? Cid tol Garlonds’ personal airship?”

It wasn’t what she had come there to ask, more interested in the Manacutter airships the pair were known for making, but since they seemed inclined to chat she would take advantage.  
It was Carine that had set her mind to wondering about that.  
Dainty had never thought to question it too deeply assuming that Nero, whip smart and able to build things that made her cross-eyed just to think about, had hot-wired and fully stolen the airship.  
Cid tol Garlonds’ lack of reaction to Nero’s possession of it seemed to belie this theory, however, as Carine had pointed out.

“T’be honest, we ain’t precisely sure. Chief knew we were wantin’ t’defect. Oh he pretended he didn’t. He weren’t at liberty t’not pretend. What with being in the XIVth and everything.” Biggs explained sadly, thinking that they would never get the chance to thank Cid for their freedom. “But he knew, jes like we knew he had considered it himself.”

This spiked Dainty’s eyebrows sharply. Wedge caught her expression and squashed a popoto in his soup in remembered anger;

“Oh yeah! Chief were considering it f’r sure. ‘Till that swot Gaius came around talkin’ about how you never betray your family… Gaius van Butthole wouldn’t know what a family was if it bit him in his butthole.”

Gaius van Butthole … nice…. And they call Cid “Chief” how precious – Dainty smirked to herself a little.

“One night, outta nowhere, Nero nan Scaeva shows up with th’key t’the Enterprise. Says we’re to assist him in takin’ the Enterprise out over th’far Eastern edge of Garlemald f’r some parade that Chief is part of. Cid’s orders. It sounded normal to us.” Biggs stressed, wanting Dainty to understand exactly what had happened that night. What Cid tol Garlond had risked for them. “We’d done similar, minus Nero of course, many a time. We were half way to Eorzea before Nero owned the truth. Cid tol Garlond had caught him mid-defection and surrendered the key t’the Enterprise in exchange for Nero takin’ us along.”

“Ah-ha. So that’s why Nero dragged Cid from the rubble of the Praetorium and hid him safely with the Scaevan Ironworks.” Dainty realized, taking a long pull from her tankard. She knew there was more to that story than Nero was telling her.

She had figured out long ago that Nero wanted his old competitive rival back but a school days friendship wasn’t enough to motivate the blond Garlean to risk his entire reputation as he had for Cid tol Garlond.

Having had his life saved, however, made much more sense.

Biggs and Wedge exchanged hopeful, joyful glances at Dainty’s words.

“The Chief lived!”

Their joy was endearing, in an odd way, to Dainty.  
She mostly considered Cid tol Garlond an annoyance, although she would concede he had mostly behaved himself since coming to Eorzea. She certainly hadn’t forgotten his pulling Nero out of the World of Darkness, even if her natural inclination to be rigid and unyielding meant she did not forgive him his words or actions at the Praetorium. 

It amused her to meet people who thought so highly for the former Tribunus.

“He travels still with the Scaevan Ironworks, they are stationed in the Dravanian Hinterlands currently. I’ve a mind t’commission myself one of your fancy Manacutters, it is Starlight, after all.” Dainty smiled. “I doubt Nero would tell me “no” if I asked permission for you to borrow the workshop a little.”

Another glance was exchanged between the fellows, this time similar grins blossoming on their mouths.

“We have been b’tween jobs a bit just recently. It’d be awful irresponsible t’turn down work when we can find it.” Biggs offered.

“Aye. Might’nt be half fun t’see Chief again too.” Wedge observed.

“Will you come with me to Idyllshire?” Dainty pressed. 

“Let us finish our stew and you bet your sweet ax we will!”

 

* * * *

 

“I suppose we ought start without the others.” Y’Shtola observed quietly.  
She was sitting with the majority of the Scaevan Ironworks in the large room where the Goblins had proudly presented their Starlight dinner.

They were very happy to have provided such a bountiful feast for the Treasure Hunters and the Ironworks, although several were very offended that Dainty, who they adored, was absent.

Nero and Carine were also missing, but everyone already knew the reason for that. 

Unbeknownst to the amorous pair Nero’s bedroom shared a wall with the room the feast had laid out in and venturing too close to said wall had given an amusing insight into where the pair had gone.

Fortunately for Y’Shtola the Warrior of Light appeared just before everyone rose to start making themselves plates of food from the veritable mountain the Goblins had so kindly provided.

She strolled in as if she hadn’t been ignoring her Linkshell for the better part of 6 hours.

“Dainty! You are late!” Y’Shtola scolded even though she was grateful to be spared much goblin fretting and wailing about why Dainty had missed their Starlight Dinner.

“I do apologize, Y’Shtola. Wedge’s manacutter was not as speedy as anticipated with two bodies in it.” Dainty replied nonchalantly as if this explained everything.

Cid tol Garlond’s head shot up at hearing the unusual name, and his jaw dropped for seeing a painfully familiar Roegadyn and Lalafell at Dainty’s heels.

Wedge was scanning the room, clearly looking for something and almost glancing over Cid until he managed to recognize the man despite the longer hair and beard.  
“Chief!” Wedge grinned waving both arms above his head. 

Cid found himself shocked immobile, sitting on the floor, surrounded by the other Ironworks members and all the festive decorations. In a heart-beat he was a teenager again, just meeting the pair for the 1st time in the workshop Gaius had given him for this 13th name-day.

“Not Chief… just an Engineer…” Cid heard himself saying in a daze as the pair fearlessly marched over to him. 

“Happy Starlight. I better get a good discount.” Dainty warned the pair before gracefully taking herself to the line of people waiting to get food, oblivious to the fact that Biggs had hesitated, then fully embraced Cid as if long lost brothers.  
“That was uncharacteristically nice of you.” Y’Shtola observed, sightless gray eyes sliding between Dainty and Cid tol Garlond several times.

“Lies. They are making me a manacutter and I want it cheap.” The cold hearted Au’Ra replied, spying a large bowl of what might have been gravy or might have been engine degreaser and ladling a portion over the Roast Dodo she had already served herself.

At least she thought it was Dodo.  
With the Goblins one could never be too sure.

A burst of genuinely joyful laughter from Cid tol Garlond at Biggs addressing him as “a reckless, headstrong, stubborn Garlean git” curved Dainty's lips into a smirk, inclining her head in that direction slightly.  
She had never heard Cid truly laugh before.  
A chuckle here and there was not uncommon from the man but never full laughter before tonight. It was a pleasant sound, Dainty thought to herself, finding a bowl of stuffing and eating a helping portion with her finger to check for flavor before adding a large spoonfull to her plate.  
“Hmmm, I think you like him.” Y’Shtola mused, eyes narrowed in a suspicious manner at Dainty.  
“Then you’re as much of an idiot as Matoya claims.” Dainty replied savagely, eyes narrowed herself in something that looked rather like anger. “Worry not, Y’Shtola. We’re all very well aware how badly you want to pick up the pieces of Cid tol Garlond’s poor Garlean heart. I’ve no desire to step on your ugly furred tail over it.” 

“Oh!”

Her words left Y’Shtola offended and shocked that Dainty would be quite that mean.

The mint haired Au’Ra could be sarcastic, and “smack talk” with the best of them, particularly with Nero but she was very rarely ever fully insulting and unkind.  
“That was a touch unnecessary, Dainty.” Y’Shtola offered with a lot more dignity than she felt, more than a little hurt by Dainty taking pot shots at her emotions.

Dainty looked completely unconcerned by Y’shtola’s hurt feelings, loading up her plate with a chunk of cheese and some crackers and sniffing the assorted decanters on the counter to locate something suitable to drink with her repast.  
“As were you for even implying I might have affections beyond friendship for any of the Ironworks. As if Eorzea would condone its fabled Protector dating a Garlean.” Dainty sneered, ire raised. “If, as you so unintelligently claimed, I did like Cid tol Garlond, how would it have been necessary to torment me with the fact when I were unable to act upon it? Or have you entirely forgotten the years Thancred, Papalymo and the City States have spent talking down to me for my close friendship with Nero and the Scaevan Ironworks?”

Y’Sthola felt that rebuke sharply.

Dainty was not inclined to be verbose and more often would not would simply walk away when something upset or annoyed her but when she did choose to speak at length it was often a devastatingly accurate statement.

Y’Shtola had no argument for Dainty’s words as the Au’Ra retreated to a far, empty corner to nurse her now ugly mood.  
Her ire, once awoken, tended to only have one setting; Destroy.

An Echo fueled rage, while helpful for killing a Primal being, had no place at a Starlight Celebration and Y’Shtola had unthinkingly provoked a very ugly reaction from Dainty by crossing a rather ugly line.

For years Dainty had been sent here there and everyone, ordered around from pillar to post and back again by the Eorzean Alliance and the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. She had fetched this and that, run errands, slayed Primals, carried groceries and done errands like a good little Warrior of Light and what had it ever gotten her?

Judgmental coughs and tart comments that perhaps that she shouldn’t be quite so friendly with the Scaevan Ironworks and the implication that they could tell her whom to associate with, just as they told her where to go and what to do.

It was hard to maintain friendships when one had no memory before the age of 19. 

She could not relate to people when they spoke of family, or bond with others over funny childhood stories as she knew none.  
In Nero, someone who chose to never talk about his past, she had found something of a kindred spirit and refused to give that up, despite the passive aggression she often faced by people trying to manipulate her when she did not follow what they believed she ought do.

Refusing to distance herself from Nero and the others was her one rebellion, and the only one she had the energy to manage on top of the weight of her responsibilities to Hydaelyn, to the Scions, to the very Star.  
There was a reason Dainty did not date and it was not solely because she had always tended to be something of a cold hearted loner. She was simply too tired for it. Even dating someone “acceptable” such as another Scion sounded exhausting.  
For Y’shtola, one of the Scions who had sent Dainty skittering here there and everywhere for years, to make a joke about Dainty dating a Garlean, when people acted as if she weren’t even allowed to be friends with one who had proven his loyalty over and over again, was very much akin to teasing a crippled war veteran about getting up and dancing at their daughters’ wedding.

It was simply a malm too far about something that ought not be joked about to Dainty.  
Dainty’s eyes flashed around, wanting to vent to Nero and suddenly realizing she had not seen Nero nor Carine anywhere and curious as to why. Normally when she retreated to dark corners with the look of the Fury herself on her pretty, scaled features one or other of them would come over and enquire as to her well-being.

Dainty grinned, despite her sour mood, realizing that Carine must have managed to make good on her Starlight Plans at long last after all. She was swiftly proven right, a rather love struck looking Carine Montiel entering the room hand in hand with a rather smug looking Nero Sceava.

*clap.* *clap* *clap* *clap.* *clap* *clap* *clap.* *clap* *clap**clap.* *clap* *clap*  
Nero looked over at the Au’Ra who was deftly balancing a plate of food on her knees and giving him a slow clap while everyone else in the room was determinedly not making eye contact.

“What the Seven Hells is the matter with you all?” Nero scowled.

“We could hear you through the walls.” Cid tol Garlond informed Nero, desperately amused by this.

“Oh Gods!” Carine went bright red, literally hiding behind Nero in sheer embarrassment, her face buried into his shoulder blades as she tried to make herself invisible in abject mortification.

“It sounded particularly satisfying given how many times you said that, precisely.” Y’Shtola teased, grateful from the distraction from Dainty’s ire.

“Don’t be embarrassed, Carine….” Dainty began.

“Dainty.” Nero scowled, pointing a finger at her in warning. She could tease him all she liked, he could keep up with her but Carine was several weight classes below the smart mouthed Au’Ra when it came to slinging smack talk. “Leave her out of it.”

“I was only going to say she isn’t walking crooked so you clearly didn’t do your job.” Dainty retorted, faux innocent.

“Yes he bloody did!” Carine insisted, head popping up defiantly and earning herself a chorus of laughter from Dainty;

“Will someone get the dehydrated pair a drink before they wither?” 

That, thankfully, cut the tension in the room and Nero and Carine were quickly furnished with plates and drinks to partake of the fest, Nero throwing a rather confused glance at Cid tol Garlond to see him sitting with Wedge and Biggs.

“Where the Seven Hells did you 2 come from?” Nero questioned.

“They’re going to make me a Manacutter.” Dainty smirked.

“I’d like to see that.” Nero commented, amused and in an excellent mood after the evenings rather pleasurable detour with Carine. They quickly helped themselves to plates of food and settled in next to Dainty, easily welcomed despite the sour mood she was struggling to suppress after telling off Y’Shtola. 

Cid tol Garlond looked up from where he was eating with Biggs and Wedge, inclining his chin down so that his white hair momentarily flopped in front of his eyes and disguised the direction of his Garlean blue gaze.

It was lingering on Dainty.

It was rarely not lingering on Dainty unless he was actively engaged in a task or conversation just recently.

She dominated his thoughts in a way he had not experienced since he was a child and desperately coveted a new toy that his Father absolutely refused to buy for him until he stopped slacking on keeping his room tidy.

Seeing Biggs and Wedge again, coupled with his childish crush on Dainty had thrown Cid’s thoughts firmly into the past. They did not celebrate Starlight in Garlemald, the closest they had was the Emperor’s Birthday, but the two holidays were similar enough for Cid tol Garlond to dwell on the realm that was once his home.

He recalled being happy as a child, even though his Father was often busy he was surrounded by Nursemaids and tutors who fawned over him. What child didn’t love that?

As an adult, however, Cid seemed to recall moments of actual happiness being far between. Magitek school had been fun as an early teenager, making and inventing, his mind activated and challenged.

With age came the terrible awareness that the things he was inventing, more often than not, were being extrapolated upon to build weapons to further Garlemald’s occupationist agenda.

Slowly his joy at creating, and inventing had been chipped away, little by little.

The rivalry with Nero had helped, allowed Cid to focus on besting his friend, rather than the end product but even that had started to darken and sour before long.

When Gaius had offered him a place in the XIVth, “just 4 short years as a soldier, then you never have to touch a blaster again, you’ll be an Engineer in name and function and nothing else.” Cid had honestly been so brow beaten by life he had leapt at the chance.

It was either that or defection and Gaius’ talk of family had been a potent enough guilt trip that it nipped any thoughts of defection in the bud.

What if I had defected – Cid mused silently to himself, still watching Dainty. She seemed lost in thought or was trying to tune out Nero and Carine flirting with one another. Carine had helped herself to some of the stuffing on Nero’s plate.

Nero had taken mock offense and had had a large piece of cheese shoved into his mouth by a smirking Carine to shut him up.

Would I have met her sooner, would she and I be friends, like she is with Nero? 

It was a pleasant thought, the Au’Ra stealing 3 cookies from Carine while the twitterpated pair were distracted with one another.

Dainty’s graceful fingers held the cookie gently as her purple and orange eyes beheld them. Sandwich cookies, shortbread with lemon cream filling. 

Her favorite.

She gently nibbled on the top cookie, mouth ever so tenderly coaxing the cookie from the layer of lemon cream below. Dainty smiled, please to see the cream undamaged.

Her small, pink tongue darted out, taking a quick lick of the naked, creamy center of the cookie and almost provoking a groan from Cid tol Garlond before he suppressed it.

Lick, lick, lick, her tongue making gentle strokes against the bottom cookie until she had wrest every last onze of lemon cream from its surface.

She then popped the entire, remaining shortbread on her tongue, enjoying the buttery flavor and crisp texture to its fullest, a look of pure bliss fleetingly dancing across her features

Oh Gods – Cid tol Garlond had to fully look away before his mind ran away with him as Dainty reached for another cookie but completely unable to stop himself from looking back to her mouth as she repeated the process.

The delicate little nips, that pink tongue, the look of intense pleasure on her face, Cid tol Garlond struggled to think of the last time he had witnessed anything quite that erotic, even if she did not mean it to be.

If anything her distracted enjoyment made it all the sexier. She wasn’t even trying to be arousing.

He rather wondering if his blood pressure could take her consuming the 3rd and final cookie, especially when she declined to lick the lemon cream from the center of this one, instead gathering it all up with one small, elegant finger and looking at it, amused, before putting her fingertip in her mouth and sucking on it avidly.

Cid felt himself breathe in, traitorous brain commanding him to speak and offer her the 2 yet uneaten lemon cream cookies from his own plate when Dainty stood suddenly, back stiffening dead straight and eyes going wide.

A deep frown chased any expression of join from the Au’Ra’s features, holding a hand to the side of her head momentarily. She wore a linkshell on a clip behind one of her cranial projections. “What? Now?”

A cold, hard expression darkening her expression as Y’Shtola took a worried step towards her;

“Is everything okay?”

“The Astrologers think Nidhogg is making his move. Ishgard isn’t ready. We need Hraesvelger and Alphie and Aymeric don’t stand a chance convincing him without me.” Dainty relayed.

Y’Shtola nodded as Dainty began to weave a teleportation spell to bare her swiftly to Ishgard.

“Good luck.”


	14. FOURTEEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dainty's temper reaches an unfortunate boiling point, aided in no small part the constant demands on her time.

Cid tol Garlond had never been formally introduced to Thancred Waters, although he had instantly taken the man in dislike as it seemed that from the moment he showed up Dainty’s presence in Idyllshire had started to decline.  
While a lot of that could be explained by the fact that the issue with the Warriors of Darkness was coming to a head, and Thancred actively needing Dainty’s help with that there was an unease between the pair that almost everyone who met this noted instantly.

Carine too, had observed it, and a subtle question to Nero, who knew the Scions the best had earned her the following cryptic line from Nero.

“Thancred is a diligent and honorable Scion, but…. not the sort of fellow I would personally be friends with.”

Cid could also infer from some of the gossip overheard by the long term members of the Scaevan Ironworks that Thancred and Dainty butted heads frequently after an incident in the long past. 

Thancred had misread Dainty’s stoic silences as disrespectful to the Leader of the Scions, Minfilia and the hyper violent Dainty had responded to Thancred’s criticism with a left hook that set him on his ass, humiliating him in front of the other Scions.

Neither had apologized and the poorly restrained hostility between them had only spiraled from there.

In the days that followed Thancred joining Y’Shtola and Dainty in Idyllshire it was not unusual to find the white haired man nit-picking at Dainty for a variety of imaginary crimes and Dainty glaring at him in silent reply while a harried Y’Shtola attempted to ignore them both.

“Good morning, Dainty.” Cid tol Garlond greeted the mint green haired woman that morning as she emerged from her lodgings and wandered into the Ironworks camp in hopes of coffee. Nero always had the best coffee and, as self centered as he could be, it was one of the few things he did not skimp on with his crew.

Good coffee was therefore almost always on hand, especially if it were Carine who had done the brewing as her sister had recently sent a care package of very good coffee from Gridania.

Dainty gave Cid a tiny nod but otherwise did not acknowledge him, not that Cid minded. There were deep lines beneath her eyes, suggesting her sleep, if she got any, had not been particularly restful.

They were also rimmed with red, suggesting she had been perhaps crying, which drew a deep frown from Cid. He had never seen her cry, or even be particularly sad. Despondent he had witnessed once or twice but she mostly existed in a calm, cold apathy with brief moments of amusement or anger depending on who she was talking to.

Other Ironworks members greeted her similarly and she gave them the same minuscule responses until locating coffee and being dispensed a cup by Carine, who was standing by the brewer.

“Hi, Dainty. I am so sorry for your loss.” Carine offered gently and earned a ghost of a smile and a nod from Dainty.

Cid tol Garlond found an excuse to sidle closer, curious as the loss that Carine referred to. When the Au’Ra wandered away he asked outright and learned that in the course of averting the Warriors of Darkness’ plans the leader of the Scions, Minfilia, had been lost to them.

He learned to that Minfilia and Dainty had been close, despite what Thancred thought, and that the strange clothing Dainty had donned for the day was actually Minfilia’s attire and likely an attempt on the stoic Dainty’s part to honor and remember the woman.

“There you are. Well, do you have the crystals?” Thancred asked, intercepting Dainty on her course to return to her room.

The Au’Ra threw her head back, giving him a stern glare.

“Your lack of planning was not my emergency. T’was no life or death issue so I remained a-bed. I shall see to it this morning.” Dainty growled in reply, annoyed that he respected her sleep and time so little that he thought she would snap to attention at 1am to track down something he was perfectly capable of fetching himself.

“You will, will you? I shall expect to see you depart at 11:58 then?” Thancred retorted archly.  
“Expect whatever you like, I am not your keeper nor are you mine.”

Thancred narrowed his eyes at her, aggravated by her lackadaisical stance, rocked back on 1 hip and sipping her coffee as if she had not a care in the world. She ought to know by now none of them would ask her for her help if it were not of dire importance.

She had ever had a disgraceful lack of respect for the work of the Scions, in Thancred’s opinion, valuing only those who could swing an ax as she could, like the late Moenbryda. Everyone agreed Dainty had taken an unusual shine to outspoken the Roegadyn woman before her passing.

“What on this star are you wearing?” Thancred growled, suddenly realizing that Dainty had helped herself to some of Minfilia’s clothes and fully glared, shaking a scolding finger at her. “How dare you?! Take those off this instant! Do not dare act like she will not return for those!”  
Dainty’s purple and orange limbal ringed eyes widened at these sharp toned commands, glancing down at the pink and purple long sleeve crop top she wore and her maroon pants and skirt.

As a Raen Au’Ra she was 4 sizes smaller than Minfilia, who had been a Midlander Hyur. The fact that the clothing fit her so flatteringly and possessed a perfectly sized hole for her tail should have been the only indication the supposedly observant Rogue would have needed to know that Dainty was not wearing Minfilia’s actual clothing but a custom-made replica.

“This was a gift from Minfilia, you ass!” Dainty snarled, slapping Thancred’s pointed hand down with a force the Hyur man felt before gesturing to her outfit. “You were there when she gave it to me 3 Starlights ago!”

“I don’t remem….”

“Of course you don’t! Just like you don’t think anyone but you mourns her.” Dainty retorted, eyes ablaze with rage as they flashed to the right and noting that their argument had drawn a brace of spectators, including Y’Shtola and most of the Ironworks.

“Oh I’m sure others do.” Thancred gestured airily. “F’lahmin, for example. And….. and….? Help me out here, I’m drawing a blank on any others.”

“Ah, yes. Because if we don’t grieve by perfect Thancred’s perfect standard then clearly, we aren’t grieving.” Dainty mocked. “Tell me, should we all assault drunk women by your standard too?”

“Dainty!” Y’Shtola gasped. “That was uncalled for!”

Y’Shtola was familiar with the incident Dainty spoke of and agreed it had been a very grey area. As the woman in question had chosen to forgive Thancred all had resolved to never speak of it again. 

Except for Dainty, apparently.  
“And Thancred accosting me for wearing Minfilia’s clothes was not uncalled for? 1. I wasn’t and 2, even if I had been I borrowed her clothing all the time, she ever encouraged me to do so!” Dainty hissed in reply. “Why am I forever being scolded for my bloody temper when no one ever says two fucking boos to the asshole who feels the need to wind me up and set me off?!”

She glared daggers at Thancred. Had Y’Shtola not been there she’d have thrown a punch by now.  
“Because you take it too far, Dainty.” Y’Shtola insisted. “You’ve always been sharp but recently you have been uncommonly mean.”

“Then stop him from sodding starting it and no one will have a Godsdamn problem with my meanness!” Dainty seethed. Cid tol Garlond could not recall having ever seen her so angry. It was actually startling and unthinkingly Cid took half a step towards her as if to offer her his hand, instinctively looking to offer her comfort and calm her. “What the Seven Hells do you want, Creep tol Grump?” 

He had been watching her, eyes constantly following her and marking her presence for months and she was well sick of it.

Cid tol Garlond felt his eyebrows raise sharply at the insult, slightly dislodging the custom made blue aviators googles he wore across his forehead

“Dainty, knock it off.” Nero scolded from behind the others with a deep frown. “You’re being awful.”  
“Oh ha-ha. Not the time, Nero.” Dainty growled, feeling rather unfairly ganged up upon.  
Thancred as bad enough, she didn’t need Nero butting in either when she could normally count on him to have her back against Thancred’s jabs.

“I’m not joking. You are being awful.” Nero pressed. Normally she was receptive to being told when her temper was running way with her from him, at least. Normally she trusted him, as her friend, to let her know that she needed to rain it in. “Cid might be an obnoxious lovestruck fool but I assure you he was just trying to offer you some comfort.”

“Oi!” Cid scowled, heap whipped around the glare at Nero.  
That hadn’t been Nero’s secret to tell.

Dainty’s eyes widened at the notion of Cid being “lovestruck” with her before they narrowed once more.

“Oh great, another fucking thing I get to hold up and be responsible for. Cid bloody Garlond’s fucking emotions. If I’m that fucking awful then leave me alone.”

“Dainty, you can’t ….” Y’Shtola began, then cringed back when Dainty whirled, slamming her axe at Y’Shtola’s feet, red aether flames whirling around her and eyes glowing red.

“Dainty, Dainty, Dainty. You’re all so busy crying for Dainty to fix everything no one bothers to care Dainty hasn’t slept in a week.” The Au’Ra growled. 

“You can turn down assignments you know.” Thancred informed her imperiously, earning him an ugly laugh and a dire glare. 

“That’s rich coming from the man who just passive aggressively mumbled about my taking a moment to have breakfast before the supposedly oh-so-import fetch errand you desire to send me upon.” Dainty spat. “And attempted to start an argument about my clothes when I tried to refuse.”

Nero frowned at that, realizing he might have been in the wrong to defend the Cid against Dainty’s sharp tongue quite so censoriously. He could have pulled her aside to gently suggest she owed Cid an apology later, rather than heaping it on when the Scions were already pushing her entirely too far.  
Not only that but Nero had no doubt contributed to her lack of sleep by asking for help with Alexander. He had delegated her more than he ought, thinking she was enjoying the battles, not realizing too much was being set upon her slender form.

“Dainty, will you please…” Nero began, hoping to beguile the Au’Ra into retreating to the Ironworks camp for a nice nap by a forging fire.  
None were better than him at getting the stubborn Dainty to do what they needed but he was out of luck today.

Dainty’s head snapped towards him, fully glaring at Nero. 

“Please, nothing! You consider me awful and can consider me so soddin’ awful that you figure out Alexander for yourself because I. Am. Tired. Tired of you, and you, and you and being stared at by YOU!” she pointed at Nero, Y’Shtola, Thancred and Cid in turn. “Maybe, just maybe, you’ll learn to stop fucking dumping your problems onto my shoulders for once in your misbegotten lives because Dainty is DONE!!”  
She stalked off, leaving her axe where it had fallen, half buried in the earth.

“Where are you going?” Thancred demanded.

“Get fucked.” Was the only reply he received as the woman accessed the Aetheryte at the center of the plaza and was whisked away, leaving them in silence but for the singular sound of someone clapping sarcastically.

Nero turned with a frown to realize it was Cid tol Garlond, rocked back on one hip, shaking his head in slow disbelief and doing a slow clap.

“The Imperial Army might be full of scumbags and murderers but at least we don't harry and harass our supposed loved ones when they are displaying the palpable and obvious signs of shell shock.” The former Tribunus observed in light tones.

“Shell shock..?” Y’Shtola questioned, gray eyes widening as she realized she could not name the last time Dainty had not been actively involved in a battle.  
Even Starlight had not been restful for Dainty. The constant low-grade anxiety of when Nidhogg would strike, not knowing where the Warriors of Darkness were, or what they were planning next, not to mention the small skirmishes with the Illuminati in Idyllshire itself that Dainty had been assisting the treasure hunters with. “…. Oh Hells.”

“In case you were wondering how to make it worse, that was it.” Cid added before turning away, pausing to throw Nero a glare over his shoulder. “I never wanted her to know that, you butthead.” He added quietly returning to his station in Ironworks camp to continue working.  
“I wonder if shell shock is why Dainty’s hands were shaking at breakfast this morning. She tried to hide it but I saw her tremblors when she picked up her coffee cup.” Carine commented softly as Nero returned to the Ironworks camp just behind Cid tol Garlond.

“Uncontrollable tremors in the limbs, paranoia and extreme irritability are common symptoms of shell shock.” Cid tol Garlond observed, bending down and adjusting his goggles before reaching for the forging hammer he had discarded when he heard yelling.  
“Dammit.” Nero growled, annoyed with himself, aware Dainty had displayed all 3 quite prominently in the past few moments, along with voicing that she was not sleeping well which suggested she also had insomnia, another common symptom.  
Now that he thought about it he had not seen a genuine smile out of Dainty since before Starlight and felt palpably guilty, an emotion to egotistical man disliked feeling.  
He considered Dainty his closest friend, he should have noticed something was wrong beyond her fiery temper.

“Dainty will forgive you.” Carine soothed, putting her arms around his waist for a snuggle, he did look particularly distressed at that moment.

“I won’t.” Cid tol Garlond put in, teasing and provoking earning him an eyeroll from Carine over Nero’s shoulder as she glanced at the white haired Garlean.

“You hush, your crush is not subtle. You must put your tongue back in your head every-time she walks by. It’s a miracle she hadn’t figured it out herself by now. Everyone else has.”

Cid frowned, feeling suitably scolded.  
He didn’t think he was that bad. 

“I should have known Thancred’s presence would push her too far sooner or later.” Nero complained, still annoyed at himself and resting his chin on Carine’s shoulder as his mind whirled, trying to think where Dainty might go in her anger and distress.  
“It was not your responsibility to recognize her ailings. She is an adult who could have asked for help before reaching the point she exploded.” The ever-practical Carine pointed out. “Besides, you’ve not stepped foot on a battlefield and your peers are fellow Engineers. It is unsurprising that it has taken a fellow Solider to realize that Dainty has a nasty case of battle fatigue.”

Unlike Nero, and to a large degree Cid tol Garlond, who tended to be over protective of the tiny Dainty, Carine treated the woman as something of a well-liked Aunt, or older Step Sibling.  
“I’m still her friend.” Nero commented, drawing away from Carine. His friendship with Dainty meant a lot to Nero, more, perhaps, than Carine understood. 

There were times, early in the days after his defection, where none but Dainty would even give him the time of day, solely because of the third eye at his forehead.

“As am I, and all of the Ironworks. What can we do to help her right now?” Carine questioned.  
Much like her Mother she had a knack for being both reasonable and comforting. Her violet eyes swept over where Y’Shtola and Thancred were talking between themselves. 

Whatever was being said wasn’t good, Y’Shtola wagging a finger in Thancred’s face, her tail fluffed up in annoyance and ears laid almost flat. Likely she was reading Thancred the riot act for his treatment of Dainty and setting all this in motion.

Unlike the Ironworks Thancred was more than battle-hardened enough that he should have recognized the signs of shell shock in Dainty as easily as Cid tol Garlond had, if Thancred had cared to see her as anything other than a weapon to be utilized.

If only Dainty were still present to see the Mi’qote actually defending her it might have done some good but Carine considered it far too little far too late and suspected Dainty would too. 

“We could go look for her, take the Enterprise and visit a certain few obvious spots.” Cid tol Garlond suggested. 

“She will clearly want to be left alooooo…. oh. Yes. Very good. Carine and I will go to Gridania. Surely she had gone to visit Carine’s mother for some tea and apple pie.” Nero smirked, catching Cid’s train of thought a moment late.

If the Ironworks were already “looking” for Dainty then it was far less likely that the Scions would do so thereby giving Dainty the time and space she clearly desired.  
“Apple and rhubarb pie.” Carine corrected softly with a grin.  
She had asked Nero about meeting her family but he had made several excuses about lack of time so she was pleased to discover the Garlean had been keeping it in the back of his mind after all.

“I know Limsa Lominsa well enough to find a bar a suitable distance away from the Marauders guild and park myself in it. Just in case she happens to walk by.” Cid tol Garlond offered. The Mauraders Guild was the most obvious place to look for Dainty and he would therefore stay far away from it.

“Good. Phillot and a couple fellows can check in at Ul’Dah, and Vesper Bay. A word or two to Urianger about this incident will go well to have any tasks assigned to Dainty redistributed quietly and promptly.” Nero agreed.

Of all the Scions the Sharlayan Elezen was the only one Nero counted on to be sympathetic to Dainty’s plight as a hyuran being above their desire for the Warrior of Light to take up her ax. The man tended to be slightly protective of Dainty in a similar way to himself, Nero had observed on previous occasion; “Let us be about it then. Before the Scions think to come this way asking for the use of the Enterprise.”


	15. FIFTEEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cid gets introspective when he drinks

Cid tol Garlond had diligently taken himself to the Adventurers Guild upon arrival in Limsa Lominsa, parked himself in a corner with a large beer and settled in to wait until such time as Nero and Carine requested pick up from Gridania.  
In an effort to thwart the Scions’ efforts to request the use of the Enterprise to search for Dainty Nero, the only one whom the Scions would contact via linkshell, had chosen to turn the key over to Cid.  
“Only for Dainty, though. Not cos I’m sorry for telling her the truth about your love struck idiocy.” Nero had taken pains to inform his subordinate.

Cid tol Garlond had nodded very sagely and repressed the smile that came bubbling up at getting to fly his airship again, alone and unwatched, after a fresh set of upgrades had been applied to it.

It had been a very long time indeed since he had savored the pleasure of flying solely for the sake of feeling the wind in his hair. He had even gotten used to the long locks and, if he was honest, he was starting to warm up to the beard too.

There was comfort to be found in looking drastically different. To glance at his reflection and not see the Tribunus Laticlavus he once was looking back at him. Instead seeing someone carefree enough to let their hair grow long and sport a neatly trimmed beard.

He took the looooong way to Limsa Lominsa after dropping Phillot and Aeneas in Ul’Dah.

Which was admittedly a poor idea as it ate up most of his gil replenishing the cernuleum tanks after the joyriding gobbled them up.

The Enterprise was fast, and maneuverable and a marvel of engineering, but it wasn’t precisely energy efficient.

Fortunately for Cid tol Garlond the Scaevan Ironworks was well respected at the Adventurers guild. 

Given how beloved Dainty was in the Guild and her tight friendship with the Scaevan Ironworks it was unsurprisingly to find that the uniform he wore afforded him certain privileges. Everyone knew the quickest way to get Dainty on one’s side was to be kind to the Ironworks.

Cid tol Garlond was poured a much larger beer than he had ordered or paid for, to his quiet delight.  
His thoughts quickly turned to Dainty with little else to occupy him, wondering if Eorzea was kinder to its shell-shocked soldiers more than The Empire was.  
For all his harsh words to Y’Shtola the Imperial Empire couldn’t have cared less about burned out soldiers.

They were discarded and replaced, left to suffer and struggle with their service inflicted demons with little more than a pity citizenship tossed in their direction. If they made it home from the battlefield at all.

Cid tol Garlond had been on the front lines of the Ala Mhigan and Damalascan invasions only 4 short years but that was plenty time enough to see more than one man purposefully walk into canon fire to quiet the screaming in his mind.

It was not a pleasant train of thought but Cid tol Garlond couldn't seem to shift his thoughts out of the rather morose head space. Seeing Biggs and Wedge during Starlight had been wonderful, but it had been a rather rude awakening at how much his ideals had changed since he saw them last, both for the better, and for the worse.

Cid had finally come to the conclusion that he had never been fully loyal to the Empire, which was heartening, but that he had choose the cowards way by following Gaius van Baelsar’s standards all those years.

Of the two of them, it really was Nero nan Scaeva who was the better.  
For now, at least.

Cid was only 34, still young enough to prove himself capable of being the man he believed himself to be. Prove it not only to himself but to Eorzea and, maybe, just maybe, to Dainty.

He had no hopes of earning her love but, perhaps, someday, trust and friendship might not be out of the question. Nero had earned it, why could not Cid?

3 beers later, Cid had only paid for 1 but the barkeep assured him that the Ironworks had an open tab that would get settled next time the owner reminded Nero that it existed, and Cid was starting to wonder if he would be summoned to collect Nero and Carine at all that evening.

It was getting late, Dainty was clearly not in Limsa Lominsa, or else Cid would have overheard the people gossiping in the bar speaking of it by now. Those that had been chatting about the days events in the bar were filtering out as the evening progressed to late night.

The Innkeeper approached him;

“There’s an Inn room on hand if ye’ve a care t’sleep off th’beer. Yer newish by th’looks of you so more as like y’don’t know Miss Dainty keeps one on demand and never did mind if any of Scaeva’s lot use it when she ain't.”

“That sounds an excellent idea.” Cid tol Garlond rose, stretching a moment and figuring Nero and Carine to be very happily ensconced at her Mothers’ house, and likely to not call for him before the morning, before presenting himself to the innkeep.

It was a quick trip down a narrow wooden hallway to the quietest room most removed from the general humdrum of the bar and Guild, the lure of a soft bed calling to Cid beguilingly, as opposed to the rickety travel cots the Ironworks usually slept in.

The Innkeep unlocked the door for him with a polite grin swinging the door open to reveal a spartan but serviceable inn room, complete with a pale scaled Raen au’ra clad in only a towel, her mint green hair freshly washed from a bath.

Dainty raised her magenta eyes with their orange limbal rings to the startled intruders impassively.

“L...lady Dainty!” The Innkeep stuttered. “I thought…! That is… the manifest said the room was empty! I beg your pardon!!”

“Not to worry.” Dainty shrugged then looked at Cid. “Come in then.”

“I will find another room.” Cid assured her, trying not look down the front of her towel. It was entirely possible from his height.

The Innkeep promptly fled in abject embarrassment, leaving Dainty to give another shrug;

“They are full but if you fancy a cold nap in the bushes of the Aftcastle, don’t let me stop you.”

This wisdom imparted Dainty returned to her sole occupation before being interrupted, one arm holding up her towel, the other held in front of her face as she pondered its faint tremor in silence.

Cid tol Garlond stepped into the room fully, closing the door behind him softly, all thought of her nudity barring that little towel driven from his mind at concern for her state.

“Is there someone I can call for you? A Healer perhaps... I confess I am not sure how shell shock is treated in Eorzea.”

“...shell shock...?” Dainty repeated almost tonelessly, an eyebrow almost imperceptibly raised.

She had seen a Healer, they had told her she was perfectly fine, just over tired and told her to get some sleep and lay off the beer.

Which would have been helpful if she were capable of sleeping or hadn’t already been abstaining from liquor out of sheer exhaustion. Her tone turned nasty. “Don't be fucking ridiculous. I don't get shell shock.”

“Extreme irritability, tremors and the inability to sleep are classic signs, along with the paranoia that is likely telling you I am utterly untrustworthy and clearly trying to kill you.... again.” Cid tol Garlond commented and earned himself a slightly startled look from the Warrior at his accurately guessing her private thoughts. Seeing an opened he offered cajolingly, adopting a similar tone to the one Nero tended to use on her. “As you observed in Idyllshire, I have been watching you to an extreme level. I have been an outside, impartial witness to your decline.”

She scowled, clearly taking offense at his use of the word “decline” but Cid pressed on: “Surely the Grand Companies must have some systems in place for battle fatigued soldiers? And someone you trust enough to turn yourself over to their care?”  
Dainty looked at the fire, dropping her hand as her face fell.

“Mayhaps were Minfilia still with us... I... might... have allowed her to order me to Camp Bronze Lake for a weeks R and R.”

“I heard she had left the Scions.” Cid tol Garlond murmured sympathetically. 

He did not entirely understand what Carine had been talking about regarding Minfilia becoming one with the Mother and departing to the Warrior of Darkness’ realm but he understood the woman would never return.  
That was almost worse than death, as it meant some aspect of her still lived and full closure denied those that grieved her loss.

Cid tol Garlond understood too, all too clearly, that Thancred was being something of an asshole about the situation, causing additional, unnecessary stress.

“Would you permit me to take you there? I’ve the Enterprise for transporting you and Garleans tend to be given a wide birth, especially were I to take off the Ironworks Uniform. I could act as a silent body guard to ensure you are left alone, at least.” Cid offered.  
Even if she did not trust him he could help while keeping his distance, if she would let him.

It’d be better than doing nothing.

Dainty’s lips twisted to the side, his words sounded very reasonable at least.

Her brain was just so fogged and turned around she was having a hard time making even the simplest of decisions. She would not have even been at the inn room had not Wyrnzoen, the leader of the Marauders Guild, marched her there and ordered her to take a nice, relaxing bath.

His sister was the Healer Dainty had visited for help and one of the few people she trusted implicitly, even if she was currently mad at her for suggesting Dainty needed only sleep to set her right.

Perhaps Cid tol Garlond was correct.

Perhaps she did have battle fatigue and, despite the fact she saw naught more than an adversary when she looked at him a small part of her knew this was not accurate.

Logically, she knew he was not the same man she faced at the Praetorium.

That man would not have saved Nero at the Crystal Tower. That man would not have so respectfully taken care of her injured form in Ishgard. That man would not have so joyfully embraced defectors like Biggs and Wedge as long lost friends.  
I cannot trust my own mind but, I can trust my logic. Nero would not protect an Imperial. Y’Shtola, cold like myself, would not warm to him if he were still loyal to the Empire. She sees aether in a way I cannot, she would know. My Echo will warn me if I am in danger as it ever has. I can trust that, at least.

Cid told Garlond watched the play of emotions across Dainty’s face. It was easy to see why she was considered stoic but he had watched her features so closely he could see the subtle differences.

It was in her eyes.

What seemed cold, dark orbs at first glance revealed hidden tells in the limbal rings. The depths were empty, but each candle light orange ring held a subtle glow and dim effect as emotions tweaked her heart.

“If you remove the Uniform I cannot promise umbrage will not be taken with your existence.” Dainty spoke at long last.

“Then it shall remain. I would cause you no undue stress. You are assisting the Ironworks with an experiment in salinity and must be left alone to observe. Nothing more.” Cid tol Garlond suggested with a gentle smile, his avid, tactical mind easily coming up with an alternate plan.

He was managing to get through to her, at long last.

Dainty looked at the white haired Garlean, the blue aviators goggles she had made for him across his forehead and a reassuring smile on his bearded features.

She moved from the fire to the table and withdrew her coin purse from the assortment of things she had set there earlier and giving it to Cid tol Garlond, knowing what he suggested would take far more coin than Nero paid the Ironworks.

Cid took the purse, accepting that it indicated her consent for him to take her to the hot springs, and, as he has suggested, turn herself over to someone else's care.  
His care.

He had not entirely expected that, even if he had hoped for it.

As much as he had watched her, as much as he could predict her thoughts and actions she still managed to surprise him.

“Let me dress, and we shall go.”


	16. SIXTEEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dainty starts to feel better...and starts to feel.

“I’m bored.”

“You can’t have any wine.”

“But it’s called the Warmwiiiiiine Sanitorium.”

“You are doing plenty of whining to earn the name.”

“You are so mean to me.”

This was said in possibly the most impossibly impish tone of voice possible, Dainty’s full lips curling up at the sides and wickedness dancing in her eyes.

The remarkable therapeutic properties of the hot springs where doing wonders for her savagely frayed nerves. She honestly had not felt so stable in a very long time and it showed in the quickness of her humor.

Cid was rather relieved to see how quickly she was coming around, her hands had stopped shaking already, he had noted.

When she had spoken of the Warmwine Sanitorium he had had morbid visions of white lab coats and scientists experimenting upon unprotected soldiers under the guise of therapy.

A serene lakeside retreat replete with hot springs with rather wondrous healing properties was a much nicer reality.

“Yes, I am truly the worst.” Cid tol Garlond agreed as if it were not him babysitting her these 3 days passed.

Other than his refusal to purchase her alcohol he was a most diligent caretaker, Dainty absolutely could not claim otherwise.

Cid had urged her to relax, to let her mind go completely blank and “reset” as best it was able during the weeks stay they had booked for her at the baths.

To further this effort, he had assumed control of absolutely everything, with her permission.

He organized their meals, he took care of ensuring her swimsuit was dry for the next day once she was done soaking, he kept snacks and water on hand for her and even did his best to keep her entertained with stories of his time with the Ironworks, and when himself and Nero had been at Magitek school together.

She had particularly enjoyed the one where Cid and Nero had teamed up to free Midas nan Garlond from a hostage situation.

He even made sure her room was tidy for her each evening before returning to his own.

In fact, other than not letting herself drink herself into a blackout nap because she was still having difficulty sleeping beyond a handful of fitful hours a night Dainty could not fault Cid tol Garlond in anyway.

“Ugh.” Dainty flopped against the side of the pool, as if long suffering. “I want fried Icepicks.”

“Mmm do you? Or do you just want to send me a particularly long errand so that you can scoff an entire bottle of wine while I am gone?” Cid tol Garlond asked patiently, sitting on the deck beside the pool.

He would have left her alone to soak but that risked someone coming to bother her. It was not every day that the Warrior of Light herself visited such a locale and lingered there, after all.

Cid tol Garlond had already had to fend off several over excited personages who were just dying to share a warm soak with Dainty. Or to ask the storied Warrior for a favor.

Dainty’s reputation for being willing to take her axe to just about anything preceded her, after all. Her axe, however, remained where she had left it, half driven into the earth in Idyllshire.

Fortunately, the contents of Dainty’s coin purse and Cid tol Garlond’s ability to technobabble on about the imaginary experiment she was supposedly helping the Scaevan Ironworks with kept most at bay.

The magitek blaster at Cid’s hip and the guards having been bribed to turn a blind eye to any altercations prevented incursions by anyone not dissuaded politely.

Ensuring that Dainty was not disturbed was Cid tol Garlond’s singular mission and he took it very seriously. Nero had even signed off on it, promising that Cid's weekly wages would be paid even though he was not working on Ironworks’ projects.

Cid tol Garlond and Dainty had privately agreed that Nero was likely enjoying being “stranded” at the Monteil household entirely too much, since Cid “refused” to return the Enterprise until such time as Dainty was ready to leave the baths.

Dainty gave an annoyed huff of air;

“I swear you want me to succumb to sleep deprivation insanity.”

Her tone was mostly joking but there was the faintest hint of seriousness to her tone. Cid tol Garlond was offended by it, even if he knew it was the paranoia above anything else and scowled before schooling his features into a light smile.

“What can I do to help... other than let you drink yourself stupid?”

Dainty looked at him impassively, but behind her stoic eyes her mind was a whirl.

Maybe it was the close confines of being around him.

Perhaps it was the fact he was being so mindful and attentive. Perhaps it was the fact she knew he was nursing a crush on her. Perhaps it was all of the above and more, but she had been struck that morning with the terrible urge to have him hold her.

It had taken her by surprise, if she was honest.

Dainty normally hated to be vulnerable around anyone, taking years to get to that level of comfort even with peoples who were her dearest friends.

She could name, at most, two people that she would be comfortable enough to cry in front of.

Yet she wanted to crawl into his arms, bury herself into Cid tol Garlond’s muscular chest and reside there for an entire evening. Not thinking, not speaking, just dwelling in his embrace until sleep claimed her. 

And she could not even blame it on alcohol because he would let her have any.

When he asked what he could do to help she had had to force herself not to instantly answer “you could hold me.”

Stop. Tis nothing more than touch starvation and the urge will soon fade once you are well once more. Your mind cannot be trusted currently. – Dainty told herself.

 

Beloved warrior and champion. That way... lies darkness... an empty heart... can be filled... with black..... a void.... unnatural... within you.... light! And love! .... accept it.... even... when... it burns.

 

“Dainty? Dainty? What happened!?“

She tuned back into reality to discover Cid tol Garlond, fully dressed, in the hot spring with her, his arms around her, holding her up in the warm water and stared at him blankly. She realized she could feel his panicked heartbeat against her shoulder, despite the heavy fabric of the wet tunic.

The loose ends of the ties of his tunic laces floating on the surface of the water distracted her from his worried features.

“Just an Echo.” Dainty murmured, expression distant and utterly distracted by trying to figure out what Hydaelyn had been telling her. 

The Mother Crystal had ever been vague and cryptic.

Cid tol Garlond stared at the entirely at ease Au Ra, half shocked, half indignant at her lack of reaction.

From his perspective she had been utterly fine, pouting about wanting a drink then her eyes had unfocused and she had face planted into the water and slid below the surface as if in a dead faint.

He had instantly leaped in to hold her out of the water and was expecting a bit more of a reaction from the woman who would have drowned without intervention than eerie, blank calm.

Then again, he had no idea what happened when she had an Echo vision. 

Perhaps this serenity was completely normal for her.

Dainty looked up at Cid tol Garlond, his white locks disheveled and damp from being splashed when he jumped into the water. His blue eyes so concerned for her and she was suddenly palpably aware of his arms encircling her mostly naked body.

She wore only a swimsuit, after all.

Within me love? A pure blooded Garelan, Hydaelyn? Is my heart so at risk of being corrupted? - Dainty questioned, knowing full well the consequences of pursuing a romantic relationship with someone of the contentious peoples. 

The respect she had fought so hard for all these years would, in many circles, evaporate in an instant. Her word would instantly become something to be second guessed and challenged instead of being accepted as it was now, solely because her choice of companion was deemed questionable. 

The whisper of what other mental failings might she possess if she made such a poor decision as to date a pure blooded Garlean would follow them ceaselessly.

Hydaelyn had said nothing when Dainty had ignored the stirrings of her heart for an Elezen or two yet stepped in now to caution her against her usual coldness.

The Mother Crystal did not answer. Not that Dainty really expected her to, yet Dainty felt the weight of Hydaelyn’s words, as she ever did. 

Having so recently faced down the Warriors of Darkness Dainty was of no desire to find out what a corrupted heart filled with black might entail. 

“Dainty?” Cid tol Garlond questioned gently, seeing her eyes still unfocused and an almost dazed expression on her face. If he didn’t know for an absolute fact she were sober he might have mistaken her for being drunk, or high her behavior was so odd. “What can I get for you? What do you need?”

His deep voice pulled her back to the hear and now quickly, blinking rapidly. At some point she’d rested her arms against his shoulders and was not sure when. 

Being held against that afore fantasized about chest was exactly as pleasant as she expected to be and felt a lick of panic crawl up her spine. The idea of attempting to maintain a relationship with anyone, let alone a Garlean, was overwhelming.

She needed to have a good, long think about Hydaelyn's commands, and if she were even capable of following it. She had always eschewed romance in favor of responsibility and truth be told she had never fully forgiven Cid for his words at the Praetorium.   
He could not have known it at the time but to have her powers used against Eorzea was her deepest fear.

At the end of the day, she knew what she was. A weapon who must be so achingly careful about who she allowed to pull her triggers. It was part of what made her disinclined to forgive those who had ever put a foot across her personal lines of right and wrong, along with her own stubborn tendency to hold a grudge.

Still, there was no particular harm to linger in his embrace at this second, Dainty figured, asking softly;

“Will you carry me back to my room?”

“O...of course. Are you weakened?”

“No, I just want you to carry me.”

That shot Cid’s eyebrows up sharply, not expecting her to choose to remain in his embrace. Still, it was little effort to rise from the baths, lifting her easily, the water pouring off their forms.

Small bursts of conversation followed them, the Warrior of Light “fainting” and needing to be carried was incredibly noteworthy after all and there were more than 1 gossip rag that would be intrigued by that tidbit of information.

Cid tol Garlond carried the silent, distracted Au Ra to her room.

He was used to her prolonged silences by now, he had seen such behavior from her from the very moment he had met her, after all.

She had answered his and Gaius’ questions at the Praetorium not, after all.

Simply glaring and hefting her ax.

This seemed different, however. She seemed distressed.

“Do you need to return to battle? I can have the Enterprise ready to depart within an hour.” Cid tol Garlond questioned, setting her on her feet since he did not want her to drip on her bedding.

“No. Hydaelyn's command were of a personal nature and I must decide if I am capable of it.” Dainty responded firmly. She looked up at him, the dark circles beneath her eyes prominent in the light of the tent but doing nothing to diminish her beauty in Cid’s opinion.

“I will check back at dinner time, then.”

“No. Leave me alone until tomorrow.”

“Alright, Dainty.”

He did not particularly wish to obey that command but with absolutely no idea what she meant by a command of a personal nature or having any context for her Echo visions he could do little more than wish her a pleasant evening and withdraw to find some dry clothes.

Dainty shut the door, slowly removing her wet swim suit methodically and wrapping herself up in a fluffy robe.

She felt unstable, and off her guard. Her heart and mind were at war with one another. 

It was not an accident that she tended to be somewhat cold, and unfeeling. It was a conscious choice she had made, shortly after waking at Moraby Dry docks with no memory.

They told her that she was a sole survivor of an accident. That her entirely family was now dead and she an orphan.

And she had felt nothing. 

It was that nothing she had constantly sort. Pushing down the warm respect she felt for Minfilia before it could become a sense of family.

Shoving aside the attraction she had felt towards Urianger as a young Maurader, just starting to find her feet as a Scion. The man was aloof, like her, and she had responded to that in some way but savagely ignored it. 

Returning Aymeric’s heated looks with nothing but a blank, steel eyed gaze despite the curl of warmth his blue eyes tended to provoke in her stomach.

Refusing to own her emotions. Refusing to feel.

The idea of now choosing to disregard all that she had done before was overwhelming but when the Mother Crystal spoke of light and dark Dainty dared not disobey.

Her instincts raged, conflicting ideas running through her head and Cid's voice ringing through her mind as if she stood before him at the Praetorium all over again;

“That curious power that allows you to withstand Eikon influence. How came you by this power, Adventurer? Tell me, lest I must vivisect you to find its cause.”

I am afraid of him – Dainty realized. - I have always feared him.

She had feared him once because he sought to bring her realm to heel and then again because she believed his words of putting a blade through her back. Now, however, was a very different kind of fear. He stood capable of pushing her out of the comfortable numbness in which she had cocooned herself, sanctioned by Hydaelyn herself.

Her concerns at the scorn that would be hurled at them both for her taking up with a pure blooded Garlean was a smoke screen for her true fears.

What did it really matter to her if she had to fight to make people value him if she chose to do so? She had been fighting all her life. 

He has been so kind to me these past few days, it was hard to fathom him the same person who had glared so hatefully at me so many a time. - Dainty mused, recalling those looks, she could recall the way his eyes had burned, wishing her every ill on earth. - I should be well beyond being disturbed by them, I ought to find them laughable! So why are they the first things that leap into my thoughts when I try to picture myself in his arms?

The answer was startlingly obvious. It was because she did not forgive, nor love easily. 

A failing that Hydaelyn would see her Champion rectify by opening herself up to the possibility of falling in love with a former Imperial.

If Dainty could love Cid tol Garlond it would be irrefutable proof that she could forgive. She could push her heart out from behind her carefully cultivated walls and feel, properly, once and for all.  
Those walls were no longer sustainable, Dainty could not remain as she was. Untouchable in body, and soul and heart, refusing the feel anything more than friendship and occasionally respect.

Dainty lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling her thoughts chaotic, and slipping away from her like quicksilver when she tried to focus on them enough to make any sort of coherent sense.

Of all the people on this star... Why not Aymeric, or Nero, Hells even Phillot would surely have been a wiser choice than Cid tol Garlond! - She already knew the answer to that question too, although she would prefer not to own it.

By urging her Champion not to ignore the stirrings within her Hydealyn had made it very clear that the cause of all this was Dainty herself.

Some tiny fraction of her mostly dead heart had taken a strange shine to the white haired Garlean, not matter how desperately she tried to suppress it. 

She admitted to finding him attractive, she would not deny that.

There would be no point denying it, having owned to thinking him cute to both Nero and Y'Shtola before.

But what Dainty was having a hard time admitting, even in the privacy of her own mind, was that there was a kindness to Cid tol Garlond that, right or wrong, some small part of her responded to.

Her traitorous mind returned to the Syrcus Tower, and a pair of proffered persimmons.

“It would seem you can use these more than I.”

In a single instant Cid had realized she was starving, when all the people she called friend failed to notice.

Cid tol Garlond, who at that point probably still vaguely hoped she had met with a nasty accident in the bowels of the Labyrinth of the Ancients, of all people, had thought to give up something he clearly he enjoyed for her benefit.

The more she thought about it the more Dainty could pin-point that as the moment the man had managed to make the tiniest of chips in the stone walls around her heart.


	17. SEVENTEEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being "stranded" can be fun sometimes.

“Oh!” Carine gave a little exclamation of surprise, slightly startling Nero who had honestly thought she had nodded off.

She was so still and relaxed, lounging against him beneath the boughs of a mature apple tree. 

“Hmmm?” The blond Garlean murmured, munching on an apple he had plucked off the tree before sitting and Carine had invited herself onto his lap.

“It’s gone behind a cloud now, but I think I saw the Enterprise.” Carine explained, shielding her eyes with one hand to scan the horizon again.

“About bloody time.” Nero snorted, then glanced down. “No offense, your family is lovely.”

“None taken, I know you’ve been a trifle bored.” Carine assured him, patting his thigh affectionately. “You have fully cleaned Mother out of odd repair jobs and handiwork that needed to be done around the house.”

It had only been four days but between designing, building and installing an irrigation system for her sisters’ herb garden, repairing the rain water collector and building a new sieve for it to feed the system, fixing the Chocobo Stable and building an auto-feeding system it was obvious that the inventive, canny Nero was hurting for something to keep his over active mind occupied with.  
That didn’t even count the trivial things like fixing the squeaking bathroom door and re-levelling all the crooked shelves in the kitchen.

“It was either that or endure the what are your intentions with my daughter conversation with your Mother. She is very kind, but I would really rather not.” Nero insisted firmly, and Carine laughed.

Nero had specifically avoided being alone with Elaine for a reason, Carine knew well.

Elaine Montiel’s Ishgardian manners were too well bred to ever interrogate a guest in public but it was clear the woman had been angling to ambush Nero into a serious conversation, which Carine had neatly thwarted by gluing herself to Nero’s side and refusing to be shifted.

“And what might you tell my over protective Mumsie if she did manage to corner you?” Carine teased.

“The same thing I tell you, of course.” Nero replied with a good-natured shrug that jostled her lightly, taking another bite of apple. “My intentions are to be with you for as long as you choose to let me.”

“Flattering but a trifle vague.” Carine giggled, reaching up without looking and groping unsuccessfully for Nero’s apple. He gave a small sigh of mock annoyance and put it in her hand for her.

Carine took a large bite before handing it back, crunching of juicy, honeyed flesh satisfying between her teeth.

Having met her family Nero was no longer bemused by Carine’s tendency to eat his food, and assume that he would help himself to hers.

Having grown up poor, having to fight for every morsel he managed to put in his mouth Nero’s instinct was always to slap away a hand that reached towards his plate but food was an expression of love in the Monteil family, as was often demonstrated by the care packages Violaine was constantly sending her wanderlust driven sister.

The Monteil family had hardly been much richer than the Scaevans, yet everything was shared in their house-hold. There was no need to claw, snatch and grab when either sister would gladly give up their own meal to know the other was full and happy and their Mother had worked and toiled long hours, a single parent, often going without herself, to provide what she could for the girls.

The concept of a family working together, caring for one another above themselves, striving as a whole to better the entire unit, rather than just the individual was strange to Nero, although he certainly enjoyed the woman it had created in Carine. 

It was also interesting to see how her upbringing had shaped Carine’s personality, and where she stood out as her own independent person.

He suspected she must have taken after her Father to a great deal, as she had a boldness and a curiosity to learn that her Mother and Sister lacked, they were content enjoying the beauty of the stars while Carine yearned to know what made them shine. Although Carine’s kind and practical nature clearly came from Elaine. 

“Mother was asking me about marriage.” Carine offered softly. 

She knew it was too soon to raise the subject, but she had just spotted the Enterprise again, bursting through the clouds. It would be landing shortly and who knew when she would have the opportunity of an undistracted Nero again once he was back with the Ironworks and his endless projects.

“Hmmm?” Nero had spotted his airship now too and his mind instantly leapt to returning to Idyllshire and all the things he had fallen behind on while “stranded” in Gridania.

They could have ridden back to the Dravanian Hinterlands on one of the Monteil family chocobos at any point but frankly neither of them had wanted to, knowing it would only earn them frantic questions from the Scions about Dainty’s whereabouts.

“Marriage. You know, vows of Eternal Devotion?”

“We could, if you like. There is a formula to that, is there not? Date for a year, then engaged for a year or some such.” Nero mused, only paying her words half the attention he ought to.

It was times like this that Carine was reminded she was dating a Garlean. 

He wore his goggles that covered the third eye at his forehead nigh constantly and had been in Eorzea long enough to start to pick up some of the slang and language so that it was easy to forget that he was technically someone of a different culture.

Despite their similarities to highlander Hyurs Garleans were not Eorzean.

Nero had no attachment to the notion of a wedding or going to the Sanctum of the Twelve to say vows because it was not something they did in Garlemald.

The Engineer clearly viewed it as something he should provide because she might desire it but otherwise couldn’t have cared less, finishing off the apple in 3 neat bites and pitching the core into the compost heap neatly.

It was his mind, not his sense of romance that attracted me to Nero in the first place, so I really ought not be disappointed by this. – Carine mused to herself, slowly rising to her feet and watching him unfold himself from beneath the tree.

“Very well. If we are still together in a year we shall become engaged. And if we are still together after an additional year we shall get married.” Carine agreed practically, trying to keep the wistfulness from her voice.

The tree they stood beneath had been planted by her parents, together, when they had little to their names but a handful of seeds, a plot of land and a child growing in Elaine’s womb.

The symbolism of it was completely lost on Nero, who had no notion of its history, but its existence left Carine wishing for a touch of something more in her relationship with the blond Garlean Engineer

They had the passion in spades, and common ground and all the infatuation she had ever wanted but being home had made her aware that she had no idea how Nero expressed love.

Sex and snuggles afterwards were all very well but it was always she going to him to give affection. 

He would gladly take anything she offered but rarely initiated and even then, it was only if they were in the privacy of a bedroom.

It was only after being around her Family, who hugged and kissed cheeks and ate each other’s’ food before offering bites of their own with abandon did Carine realize Nero did not do any of those things and that she wanted him too.

This was her first meaningful relationship, she was learning as she went as much as Nero was learning what it was like to date an Eorzean.

He had never bothered trying before, the general unease with purebloods in general making it unusual to find a woman interested in anything more than a 1-night stand, if he had been looking in the first place which he had been entirely too busy to do.

A few years ago a rumor had gone around that Garleans tended to be well-endowed and Nero had traded on that one for quite a few dalliances.

Violaine teasing Carine for the truth of that rumor and Carine blushing bright red over it had also been incredibly amusing.

“How likely is your Mother to attempt to set up Violaine and Aeneas should that landing party come traipsing up here?” Nero asked, spying familiar blond and brunette heads on the Enterprise beside Cid tol Garlond’s white one at the helm as the airship cruised low enough to begin landing maneuvers.

There was no small, mint green set of curls restrained in neat braids, however, Nero noted instantly.

Cid had clearly stopped in Ul’Dah to collect Phillot and Aeneas before coming to Gridania for Nero and Carine.

The alchemically inclined Aeneas would have no doubt taken a quick interest in Violaine’s gardens, and her ability to grow any number of unusual and rare potions ingredients while his good manners and attractive brunette looks with a lack of a Garlean third eye had endeared him to many a Mother in the past.

Nero doubted Elaine would be different.

“Oh Twelve. VERY.” Carine sighed. “Let’s get while the getting is good.”

“Agreed!”

Hasty goodbyes were said, Elaine entreating them to come back to visit anytime they desired and Nero and Carine were jumping on board the Enterprise almost the very second in touched ground.

Cid tol Garlond said nothing, simply getting the Enterprise underway while Phillot and Aeneas reported that their time with the Scions in Vesper bay had been put to effective use and Urianger now owed the Ironworks a brace of favors for the work they had done at the Waking Sands.

The second the airship levelled out Nero moved to the helm, giving Cid tol Garlond a rather narrowed eyed glare and demanding;

“Where is Dainty? I told you to keep the Enterprise at her disposal.”

“Hello to you to, Nero.” Cid snorted, rubbing a tired hand over his face.

Taking care of Dainty had worn him out.

It was demanding work being considerate and devoted to taking care of another being like that, trying to anticipate their wants and needs. Not only that but it was not something Cid tol Garlond had ever had to do before. “She asked to be set down in Ishgard, then changed her mind and decided to Atheryte travel herself for speed. She had a vision of some sort yesterday that left her distracted and distressed, I did not see fit to argue. T’was not my place.”

“That is troubling.” Nero frowned, worried for his friend and still feeling guilty for his hand in the argument that had preceded her departure from Idyllshire.

“She insisted the Echo were of a personal nature when I offered her assistance in returning to battle. Make of that what you will.” Cid tol Garlond shrugged, not familiar with the difference between an Echo of a personal nature and an Echo of any other kind.

Carine gave a little giggle at that; 

“A personal nature?” She snapped her fingers and swung her hips, making it very clear what kind of personal she was referring to. “She’s going to return to Idyllshire as Dainty de Borel!”

“Hows that?” Nero’s expression looked halfway between confusion and scowling and doing neither well.

“She received a message from the Mother Crystal of a personal nature and promptly rushed straight to Ishgard, where the incredibly handsome Lord Commander Aymeric de Borel spent the past few months making besotted eyes at her and addresses her as dearest friend.” Carine replied, a smile on her mouth, deeply amused by this and not displeased by the notion that Dainty should have someone to love her. “You figure it out.’

She was aware Cid and Aeneas and Phillot and most of the Ironworks had crushes on Dainty, or were lovestruck as Nero liked to put it, but did not set to much store by the emotions, thinking them nothing more than harmless wishful infatuation.

Also Dainty had spent entirely too much time teasing herself and Nero about being twitterpated that Carine felt it was fair game to gossip about Dainty’s love life however she pleased.

Nero’s expression changed into a full-on scowl.

He didn’t feel equipped to argue with Carine, what with her possessing the Echo like Dainty did while Nero did not, however her assessment of the situation did not seem correct. He had been friends with Dainty long enough to know that even if Hydealyn herself demanded it Dainty would rush into no man’s arms.

She was too cold for that. To logical. Even her fiery temper took a long time to kindle into a blaze.

“Perhaps.” Nero murmured, then smirked at the white-haired Cid tol Garlond who was staring very fixedly at the horizon, commenting playfully; “Dainty does have a certain penchant for Elezen….”

Cid’s jaw clenched, a muscle in his cheek twitching and Nero laughed openly; “Oh relax, old friend. I should be very surprised indeed were Carine correct.”

“Oh really?” Carine challenged with a smirk of her own, confident that Nero had not seen some of the looks Aymeric had given Dainty.

“The only thing Dainty rushes for is a battle and Ser Aymeric is not that handsome.” Nero pronounced with finality.


	18. EIGHTEEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We find out where Dainty disappeared to.

A large number of Illuminati Goblins fleeing out of the Robotic Primal Alexander, squealing as if the fear of the Twelve themselves had been driven into them as the fled back to the abandoned Sharlayan Ruling Quarter.

Lights and alarms sounding across the countryside drew concerned looks from the denizens of Idyllshire. They were several malms away from where Alexander was set in a lake in the Dravanian Hinterlands and it was likely a bad sign that they could hear its death knell all the way in the Cenotaph.

Hot on the Goblins’ heels Cid, Nero, Roundrox and Y’Shtola came sprinting out of the Primal with Nero throwing one glare thrown over his shoulder at the white haired Elezen who was sauntering along behind them as if she hadn’t a care in the world.

“Would you hurry it up!?” He demanded.

He had not liked Carine’s decision to assist Y’Shtola and himself with the Primal Alexander in Dainty’s stead, despite Carine’s statements of possessing the same Echo that Dainty did and Cid tol Garlond offering to don a modified version of his old armor and gunblade to guard her back.

Carine did not have Dainty’s blessing of light and the super natural strength and powers it granted the diminutive Au’Ra, although Cid tol Garlond’s armor augmented Garlean strength was certainly within spitting distance of Dainty’s raw force.

Still, they were running out of time and when Roundrox had been kidnapped the choice had been taken out of their hands, Y’Shtola fully begging that if Nero knew where Dainty was to please ask her to return to Idyllshire.

The thing was, Nero didn’t actually know where Dainty was, only knowing that she had told Cid she was bound for Ishgard. She was not responding to hails on her Linkshell and a frantic message to the Lord Commander had yet to receive a reply.

“I told you, my love, I’m waiting for someone.” Carine replied as if this were nothing more than a Sunday stroll, pausing in the threshold of the entry point for a black clockwork couerl to drop from somewhere high above onto her shoulder. “Ah, there you are Shana. Right on time.” 

A safe distance away Nero, Cid and Y’Shtola turned to look, watching, somewhat gobsmacked as a shield of pure time whirled around Alexander, letting Carine step through it peacefully before, with a pulse, it froze in place.

Locked, as it were, in a paradox, the only being capable of undoing the paradox was the very thing causing the paradox creating an unbreakable Gordian knot of cause and effect.

Had Carine been caught within it, she would have been lost forever, however her casual words betrayed that she had had advance warning of the exact timeline of Alexanders lock being irrevocably turned.

“You might have warned us Mide had told you to wait for Shana.” Nero scolded. 

“I told you there was no reason to run. Thrice!” Carine insisted tickling Shana under the chin as she sauntered over. It wasn’t her fault they weren’t listening to her. “I am not Dainty, I do not do stoic silences and I have not her flair for dramatics.”

“Are you quite sure about that?” Y’Shtola asked, blinking several times in an effort not to say something rather sharp to Carine.

Seeing the pretty Elezen casually strolling out of Alexander not a moment too soon looked awfully like seeing Dainty burst out of Azys Lla riding a dragon not a moment too soon.

“Oi! You lot alright?” Midnight Dew asked, jogging quickly over from Answering Quarter where she and some of the other Treasure Hunters had been digging in the ruins for salvage.

No one had been entirely sure what would happen without the Warrior of Light there to keep things in check but it seemed the combined brilliance of Nero’s mind for machines, Carine’s ability with her bow, and her Echo backed up by Cid tol Garlond’s unquestionable combat prowess and Y’Shtola’s knowledge of all things aether had set things right.

“Oh just fine.” Nero replied, brushing some imaginary dirt from his red and black tunic. “Enjoy the new water feature.”

He gave a gesture at the frozen Alexander and Midnight Dew grinned;

“Aye, we just might at that.”

This was accompanied with a wink that Nero missed but earned Midnight Dew a sour look from Carine before the Elezen confidently tucked her hand into his arm and earned herself a smile from the smug looking Nero.

He judged that there was a fair chance this victory, and his help in felicitating it, would put his devastatingly hot girlfriend in a rather frisky mood and he was in an indulgent enough mood to give the entire Ironworks the afternoon off so that he could capitalize on Carine’s mood in private.

The way she was leaning into him was rather pleasing. 

Cid tol Garlond, his gunblade returned to his back, removed the helmet he wore to look assessingly at Alexander, attempting to stretch out a dull ache that had manifest beneath his ribs.

Now that the adrenaline was fading several aches and pains were making themselves known. He was well out of battle conditioning after all this time working as nothing more than an Engineer.

What Gaius had once promised Nero had managed to make good on.

“It’s…nfff… something of a pity such an amazing machine must go unused yet I cannot argue that no mortal hand ought possess something of that power.” Cid tol Garlond commented, giving a small grunt of pain as his movements reminded him he had taken a fall at one point that had slammed his entire armored weight onto his right hip. 

Much as he had felt none should have the ability to use the Crystal Tower or renew Xande’s covenant with the Void.

The Allagans had long proven the Man was not meant to possess such power.

“Cid, are you quite alright?” Y’Shtola questioned, seeing the man looked a little woozy and stiff.

A soft green glow of what was undeniably healing magics wove themselves around the white haired Garlean, mending unseen wounds and wiping away internal bruises and bleeding.

The glow faded to be replaced by a second, this time with the familiar sensation of a regeneration type spell, restoring stamina and energy. Cid tol Garlond looked to Y’Shtola, assuming her the cause but the conjurer’s wand remained at her back.

She was instead looking past him with a confused and rather shocked expression.

“I came the moment I received your harried message, Y’Shtola but I see I was rather superfluous.” Dainty observed, right hand still outstretched towards Cid tol Garlond as the effects of her spell faded.

Her left supported the weight of an Astrologians Star Globe, its cards spinning neatly around the globe of pure aether and the reigns of her chocobo tucked into her belt for safety.

The nearest Atheryte was malms away in the Dravanian Forelands. Dainty had clearly departed Ishgard the very moment Y’Shtola’s letter had been received and ridden straight through without breaks to reach them. 

Something that someone who was trying to rest ought not to have done.

“I apologize Dainty!” Y’Shtola instantly felt guilty. Once again, the Scions had gone crying for Dainty when there were others capable of performing the task. “We thought there was to be a full Primal manifestation or else I absolutely would not have summoned you when I know you are convalescing.”

“I would rather have been called and be unneeded than the opposite and see two lives lost.” Dainty observed, eyes moving to Carine and Cid in turn before she returned the Star Globe to her back and looked at the inert Alexander. “I never minded being called for this sort of thing. T’is Thancred’s sodding fetch quests….”

“He has been censured for that, believe me. He has been sent to little Ala Mhigo to investigate a person of concern for the time present. Pray, return to Ishgard and your…studies?” Y’Shtola assured Dainty, still utterly confused to see the Warrior wielding the accouterments of a Healer with such precision. “Twelve, but it’s odd to see you with that thing, Dainty.”

“I were bored at the baths and thought taking up a more gentile discipline for a time might provide a distraction that would not trigger further stress.”

“Tis a wise choice that I cannot fault you for and far better than what Carine assumed; that you had taken up with Ser Aymeric.” 

The Au’Ra gave Carine a rather confused look at this information offering only;

“Ser Aymeric does not study Astrology.”

“I told you.” Nero grinned, bumping Carine a little with his elbow. 

“Uh huh and how, exactly, did a letter to the Lord Commander reach Dainty almost instantly if you weren’t already together, huh?” Carine questioned in a rather saucy tone, eyebrows arched over her laughter filled violet eyes, teasing her fellow Echo wielder; “I know what Hydaelyn is about when she sends messages of a personal nature.”

“You are not incorrect on the nature of mine Echo…” Dainty replied, moving to take the reins of her chocobo from her belt and lifting them over the obedient bird’s head so that she could remount him to return to Ishgard. 

It was not her nature to be verbose, she had already said more than she normally would upon a deeply private and personal subject, but her eyes moved to Cid tol Garlond, observing her in silence as he tended to do. She did not want him caused the pain of thinking her with another erroneously. She met his eye clearly, addressing her next words to him alone, as if the others were not present. “…but it were not Ser Aymeric the Mother Crystal saw fit to urge me towards. I have two tasks to complete in Ishgard afore I will return to be yours.”

With that she leapt up into the saddle of her bird, putting her back to them and making it very clear that the conversation was over.

“Yours…? Your what!?” Nero blurted out, whipping back and forth between Cid and Dainty but the Au’Ra set her bird into a sprint, leaving Cid tol Garlond to be gawked at in shocked silence by the others. “What occurred at Camp Bronze Lake, exactly?!”

Nero would have hated to think that Cid had somehow taken advantage of Dainty’s precarious mental state to manipulate her into his bed. He really did not think the other Garlean capable of such scheming, even subconsciously and was proven correct by the genuinely nonplussed expression on Cid tol Garlonds’ face.

“Nothing!” the man insisted, staring at the departing Dainty’s back and fumbling for words. “At least… I thought nothing?”

He had been so focused on being her care-taker and helping put her chaotic mind back in some sort of healthy order, was it possible he had missed something between them?  
Other than her unusual request to be carried he could have sworn there was no deviation from her normal behavior. The brief flashes of humor she had displayed seemed perfectly in character and had reminded him of how easy going she had been at the Crystal Tower. “… I could have sworn….”

“Fret not, Cid tol Garlond. This is not unusual behavior from Dainty.” Y’Shtola reassured him.

“It’s not?”

“She loves neither easily nor willingly.” Y’Shtola observed. “It would appear that this time she has failed logic herself back into comfortable numbness, perhaps due to Hydaelyn’s urging. She is so stoic and shares her thoughts with us not so that what appears to come out of nowhere to an observer has likely been rattling around that scaled head of hers for weeks.”

Y’Shtola had known Dainty longer ever than Nero and had witnessed the womans refusal to feel, stomping down on her emotions savagely, many a time.

It was years ago now but the only warning Urianger ever received that Dainty was sweet on him was quite literally her crawling into his bed at 2am, and promptly talking herself out of her affections the following morning, leaving the Elezen man confused and slightly relieved.

“I told you.” Nero repeated with a self-satisfied smirk, pleased to see he yet knew his friend better than Carine did.

Nero’s hopes of Carine being in a good mood were somewhat dashed when they returned to Idyllshire and she ducked his attempts to kiss her with a swift;

“At least let me shower first.” and fled to the bathroom leaving a thwarted Nero slightly scowling at her back. He wanted to be spoiled and his ego stroked for having been able to figure out what the Illuminati intended with Roundrox before anyone else could.

As amusing as the potential situation with Dainty and Cid tol Garlond was likely to be, the other Garlean had gone silent and looked vaguely shell-shocked before retreating to his room in silence when they returned to Idyllshire, Nero was rather content to let the Scions do the fretting over it.

Once Dainty took it into her head to do something, there was no dissuading her. Nero knew that only too well. It was half the fun of being friends with her, truth be told. Even if it did sometimes result in his needing to physically hurl her out of life threatening situations.

Carine’s soft voice, singing in the shower, swiftly captured Nero’s attention and he smiled gently to himself. She really was the sweetest songbird he had ever possessed. 

He certainly had not eschewed romance and intimacy to the degree Dainty had but he had always been leery of relationships in general. Thinking himself too arrogant and self-centered to take pleasure in giving up half his bed but being able to reach for her whenever he wanted in the night, draping an arm along her hip because she was already sleeping beside him was comforting in a way Nero had not anticipated.

An errant bottle of lotion on the sideboard amid the odds and ends of Magitek projects and tools drew Nero’s eye by how out of place it was. Or rather, out of theme. It was perfectly welcome in his room as much as its owner, Carine, was.

He rose, picking up the bottle and sitting on the bed awaiting Carine to return, skin freshly scrubbed from her shower and in need of a nice layer of lotion smoothed over her skin. 

The quicker that task performed the quicker she might be coaxed into worshiping him in bed, therefore he desired to help her along with it.

Carine exited the bathroom, wrapped up in a far from luxurious but serviceable white towel, another twirled around her long, silver white locks. Her violet eyes widened in surprise to see Nero patiently waiting to attend to her, the bottle of lotion held in his large hands.

Normally his mind was so avid and curious that when she stepped away for a shower, or a walk she would return to find him up to his wrists in one of his endless Magitek projects.

“Are you going to help me?” Carine asked, a large smile on her mouth at the romantic gesture.

“Mmm.” Nero agreed, crooking a finger at her to gesture her closer.

Carine let the towel fall to puddle at her feet, leaving her naked, she was not normally so confident exposing her body so freely but Nero had made it very clear how gorgeous he found her and it had boosted her confidence, with him at least, in spades. 

The blond Garlean’s heart rate spiked up at the sight of her, it always did and he hoped it always would but ignored the sensations of arousal, for now, as she moved between his splayed thighs trustingly.

His very blue eyes drank in her image for a moment before Nero moved to his knees on the floor to start at her ankles and work up. He was more than happy to rub the sweet lavender scented lotion into her skin for her, while savoring the sensation of her skin beneath his palms.

His hands traveled up her calves, taking careful consideration of her knees.

What had started as Nero simply wanting to speed things along towards the bedroom quickly turned into his enjoying performing the task for Carine. She was so stunningly beautiful, and she was his and she reacted oh so beautifully to his touches.

He looked up at her, her eyes closed, bottom lip caught between her teeth and savoring his attention as he reached for more lotion and started to work it across the skin of her hips and down her thighs, and between them. Fingers gliding tantalizingly close to her bare, pink cunt and coaxing a quickened breath from Carine. 

It was fashionable for ladies to be shaven in Eorzea, a fashion that Nero quite enjoyed that Carine followed.

He smirked a whisker.

“Mmm I wish you’d do this outside of the bedroom.” Carine murmured, voicing aloud an only half finished thought, distracted.

“You want me to massage lotion into your skin in public?” Nero questioned, blinking several times. He was up for a lot of things but that probably wasn’t one of them. 

“No, silly.” Carine giggled. “I mean being attentive to me, like this.”

“Am I not attentive to you?” Nero frowned, his hands stilling at her hips, a genuine look of confusion on his face.

He always put down whatever he was working on the second she wanted his attention and if she wanted to hold his hand when they walked he always let her, even if he thought the action slightly childish personally. 

“Attentive isn’t the right word, I guess. I just wish you would initiate affection, like you are now but, you know, like I do.” Carine tried to explain.

She was younger than him and had not entirely the words to describe what it was she craved. 

She wasn’t entirely sure how to explain that a simple touch of the shoulder or a hand resting against an elbow conveyed a wordless desire to be close to your chosen person that was reassuring. 

When he only initiated in private, knowing it would lead to sex it was sometimes hard to tell that he was happy to be with her, not just that he was happy to have a warm female body to sleep with at night.

“I am not sure what you are asking me for, Carine.” Nero spoke softly after several long moments, stroking lotion across her flat stomach in silence before moving to sit back on the edge of the bed as she turned in place so that he could do her back.

He would be glad to give her what she wanted, relationships were built on compromise and working together, as much as he understood them.

“I just wish that sometimes you would walk up and kiss me on the cheek instead of me walking up and kissing you on the cheek.” Carine offered, his hands moving deliciously across the smooth, round curve of her backside.

“Is that not the same thing?”

“Are you being deliberately narcissistically obtuse?” Carine turned slightly, looking over her shoulder at Nero. She knew his ego but was surprised to see his blue eyes were guarded and wary when she looked at him.

“I am not.” Nero replied simply. It was not an undeserved question but, in this instance, it was incorrect. “Leave it with me, Carine. I will think on it.”

That wasn’t a particularly satisfactory answer as far as Carine was concerned but she knew Nero’s mind, the man was undeniably an utter genius and had never been content to rest or relax when a problem had been presented to him.

She judged there was a far chance that if she gave him the requested time to let his cogs spin that likely the end result would be satisfactory to them both.

She turned back around, removing the damp towel from her hair at long last to let the length drape over and one shoulder and letting his hands work lotion in to her back, shoulders and arms.

Being more physically demonstrative of his feelings towards her in public sounded awful to Nero, it went against his controlled nature.

The truth was that it made him somewhat uncomfortable when she would detour from her path to kiss his shoulder when traversing around Idyllshire and he had been receptive to her affection mostly because she wanted to give it.

His hands guided her to turn back to face him, hands ready to adorn her collarbones and breasts with lotion, a pleasure he had been saving for last, but Carine took one look at his pinched expression and averted his movements by cupping his face with both hands gently.

“Nero, what it is?”

He looked utterly stricken and she had not the faintest idea why.

A small frown creased his handsome features and Carine reached to slide off his aviators goggles, revealing the small third eye at his forehead that marked him indelibly as Garlean.

“As a child anything I openly demonstrated a fondness for was taken away from me, Carine.” Nero admitted softly.

Carine instinctively gave a soft inhale and held her breath.

He rarely spoke about his past or childhood, not even with Dainty who knew about it from witnessing his memories personally. His opening up to her so vulnerably was out of character for the prideful, egocentric Nero and despite her age she recognized that it took a large amount of willpower for him to push himself to do so. “I will try to do as you ask, t'is not an unreasonable request yet I ask that you be aware that what is natural and instinctual to you requires a conscious effort for me.”

This imparted he took her hands loosely at the wrists, returning them to her side before moving to replenish the lotion on his hands. 

His behavior clearly communicating that the conversation over and closed and that he wanted to return to the task without further discussion of the subject.

Carine breathed out softly and did not press the issue, instead closing her eyes and trying to focus on the feeling of slightly rough, calloused hands moving up over her waist to her ribs and settling on her pert, full breasts.

He massaged them gently, and skillfully if the breathy little noises Carine occasionally emitted were any indication, before stroking his hands up to smooth the last traces of the lotion across her throat tenderly.

“All done.” He told her, rising and pressing a kiss to her forehead, he had no problem initiating affection in the privacy of their rooms. 

Carine slid her arms around his torso, pressing her bare chest against his clothed one and flattening her hands against his back in a tight hug.

“Have me.” Carine offered softly, looking up at him with an affectionate expression, he really was preposterously tall. Taller even than most Elezen men.

“Beg pardon?” Nero asked, not quite sure he had heard that right.

“Take me. Reassure yourself I’m yours.” Carine urged, rubbing her cheek insistently against his shoulder. She didn’t know what else to say or do in wake of his words but desperately wanting to reassure him she would never go anywhere.

“That was rather my intentions.” Nero purred, amused, touched and pleased by her soft entreaty, his arms coming around her and one hand falling against her backside to give it gentle squeeze.

Carine giggled, this was the arrogant Nero she was more familiar with, reaching up and snagging the lapels of his coat to fully drag him down onto the bed with her.

It turned her on when he talked like that, voice full of bite and promise.

It was no effort for the talented, agile bard to wrestle him onto his back, straddling his legs and reaching for the buttons of his tunic.

She wanted him naked.

Now.

Nero’s strength was above hers but, having been an Engineer all his life, he had not the ability to apply it to playful combat situations, unlike Carine.

“A bit eager, are we?” Nero teased as she peeled him out of his tunic.

He had intended to attend to her orally and request the same, but he would never complain about Carine wanting to skip to the main act. He had judged her being a bit frisky to be a high possibility earlier, after all.

“Yes we are.” The Elezen beauty declared, eyes wicked and guiding one of his hands between her legs so that he could feel she was already wet.

Later Nero would swear he could feel the blood draining out of his head as he got hard almost instantaneously. There were few things more arousing to him than when Carine wanted him so eagerly.

He pulled her onto the bed, rolling them over so that he could shed his pants and covering her body with his own. She wrapped herself around him, pulling him on top of her and running her hands through his blond hair.

“Hurry.” She whispered in his ear, writhing against him to position his body between her legs and trying to push his small clothes off his hips with her feet.

The second she succeeded in getting his small clothes down he was pushing for entrance inside her body, complying with her requests.

He tried to be gentle, aware that she was yet inexperienced, but she was digging her heels into his backside,

“Gods, you’re so wet.” He groaned.

“What did you think would happen…” Carine gave a little gasp as his pelvis met hers, his thick cock lodged entirely inside her. “…caressing me the way you were?”

He began to move, slow and hard, kissing her deeply.

“Nero…” Carine moaned into his mouth. This was what she had wanted because she knew this was what he had needed.

She had always been vocal and tried to be an active lover but she doubled down now, doing everything in her power to make it about him, dragging her nails down his back and bucking her hips while moaning his name.

She was certain this was what he needed to realize she wasn’t going anywhere. To touch her and taste her and take her.

“You keep that up and I’ll be done long before you.” Nero growled, teeth gritted against the sensation of her beneath him, wrapped around him like liquid silk while her nails clawed up his back.

Carine giggled and dragged her tongue up his throat tauntingly.

Nero thrust into her hard, bottoming out inside her and grinding his pelvis into hers before pulling all the way out of her, leaving her gasping.

The loss of stimulation helped calm him a little as he coaxed her to roll onto her stomach he moved back into position above her prone body. His hands coaxed her to raise her hips a little before he reentered her from behind, earning a low gasp from Carine

He’d never taken her in that position before, normally preferring access to her breasts and being able to watch her face as she came.

He liked being able to stroke and tease her sensitive skin but settled for gripping the round curve of her backside and using it to pull her onto him as all restraint deserted him, rearing back to buck into her hard and fast.

“Nero!….. Gods…..!” Carine shuddered, clawing at the bed sheets as he fucked her.

It felt good.

Different than having his heavy weight atop her but still so good. It was like her world had shrunk to the finite point of pleasure where their bodies where joined.

Nero’s head fell back, eyes closed and knowing he could focus on nothing more than his own pleasure, the speed he wanted, the level of stimulation he desired.

Her tight cunt clenched on him, spasming and milking his length, a small, quick peak building rapidly in her.

A few more thrusts and it hit her, another close behind it leaving her shuddering and mewling his name.

She ground her face into the sheets, rocking her hips back over and over, meeting his rhythm. 

Another small climax rippled through her. They weren’t as strong, or as satisfying as the kind she usually had, that took far longer to build but the sheer quantity made up for the lack of quality.

She pressed her face into the bedding, moaning and screaming his name.

His hands left her hips to travel up her spine, tickling and drawing squirming from Carine as her body twitched from the force of his thrusts.

It was too much, her limbs felt like they were made of bricks and she was melting into the bed.

Nero was having a hard time holding himself back. 

This always happened, he wanted to be spoiled and worshiped and he ended up utterly tunnel visioned on pleasing her and, Twelve take her, he wouldn’t have changed it for the world.

“Nnnnnngods.. Carine… fuck….” He growled out between his teeth. He didn’t normally curse, thinking it showed a distinct lack of ability to correctly enunciate ones point but it was impossible not to right now.

His sharp hip bones pressing into the curve of her ass as he surged deeply inside her one last time and came hard, earning a sharp twitch from Carine at the sensation of his hot cum hitting her over sensitive walls.

“oh… oh wow…” Carine managed, trembling body half frozen in place, his cock still twitching inside her. She was a sopping, sweat soaked, dripping mess and had lost count how many times she had actually cum. 

She hadn’t thought he could actually manage to make sex more intense than their first time together but then again, this was Nero she was dating. One upping himself and everyone around him was basically his life’s goal.

“Wow is good.” Nero murmured, smoothing his hands up and down her back several times until her shaking had abated before gently withdrawing from her and flopping down on the bed next to her. 

He was very glad he’d told the Ironworks to make themselves scarce for the evening because they absolutely would have heard Carine’s enthusiastic vocalizations and he would never, ever quieten her.

Not for all the gil in the world.  
He draped an arm over her naked form, pressing a kiss to her shoulder and earned a lazy smile from Carine. Who rather felt like she had become one with the bed, her body melted and relaxed and tingling all at once.

“…holy… wow…” she muttered, utterly unable to say anything other than that.

“You’re welcome.” Nero chuckled.


	19. NINETEEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cid tol Garlond and the Warrior of Light play 20 questions in a bathtub. Kinda.

Cid tol Garlond was sitting by the fireplace in his room, the book splayed open on his lap suggested he was reading but he was actually staring sightlessly at the pages.

Silence but for the occasional pop of the fireplace his only companion.

Normally the noise of the other fellows’ in their rooms or moving around during the evening would have drowned out the sounds of light booted feet on stone hallways but the barracks were unusually quiet tonight.

The others had gathered at Rowena’s Cultural Center for the evening, having been given an unexpected night off and a bonus of a week’s wages to piss away on as much liquor as they fancied consuming.

Several of the predominantly female Treasure Hunters that lived in Idyllshire had decided this was an excellent excuse to dress a little fancier than usual and see if they couldn’t pull a Garlean bed partner for the evening. They knew what they said about Garlean’s, after all.

Even though he would have declined the invite Cid tol Garlond quickly discovered that others in the Ironworks had deliberately not bothered to mention the gathering to him.

Word had gone around very quickly that Cid had gone to a Hot Springs for 4 days with Dainty on company dime and several feelings were understandably ruffled over that. 

Cid tol Garlond did not begrudge them. He imagined he would be nursing rather bruised feelings himself were he standing on the other side of the situation. 

He had been treated differently from the others from the very second he arrived at the Scaevan Ironworks.

Where the others very clearly as subordinate workers Cid could mouth back to Nero with impunity. He was given free rein to work on whatever project Nero was working on and was taken on missions with the Scions of the Seventh Dawn without question.

Although it was true Nero did order Cid tol Garlond around it was usually to get under his skin more than anything else and there was always an under-current of the friendship they had had in Magitek School.

Nero treated him more like an independent contractor than a subordinate.

There were members of the Ironworks who had been loyal for years without even achieving that level of privilege.

Not to mention the jealousy induced in those that had long standing crushes on Dainty.

Her words of returning to Idyllshire to be his had very quickly gone around the encampment, earning him several startled and angry looks before he fled for the safety of his private room.

As much as he had lusted after her and longed for her to suddenly be handed what he had once considered impossible was shocking and he was not sure what to do now.

Her words had been so decisive, yet so vague. 

“I shall return to be yours.” Could mean anything from she wanted a one-night stand to she intended they be together, for the rest of their lives, fully committed to one another.

That was a slightly terrifying thought.

As much thought as he had put into having sex with Dainty he had never really let himself extrapolate from there. There was no point since it was impossible anyway but now that it was suddenly, ridiculously not impossible his mind was running away with him.

Assuming the simplest answer, that she intended for them to exclusively and permanently partner one another but she remain the Warrior of Light, how would that even work? 

How could she possibly balance her responsibilities to the Star and prioritize a personal relationship correctly. What if she fell pregnant?

What would their kids look like? Would they inherit her scales or his third eye? Or both?

He had always sort of assumed that children were something that would, at some point, occur in his life just as he had assumed at some point he would retire from the XIVth and settle down, perhaps start a little business out of his Family’s properties.

His family had been wealthy but as a mere Engineer of the Scaevan Ironworks, and a known fugitive at that Cid had almost nothing to his name. Everything he owned could fit in a hempen bag, minus the Enterprise of course, although he was not sure he wanted the fight that would occur trying to pry the key from Nero’s clutches after all these years.

What if Dainty expected him to provide for her? 

He couldn’t!

That panicked him although he was quickly soothed by recalling how heavy Dainty’s own coin purse was, and how quick she was when handing it over. She was already well aware he had nothing, and had elected herself “his” despite of this, therefore he felt his panic unwarranted.

Nero had made some comment once about Dainty having made a small fortune in her youth as well, and she never have any trouble finding work as an Adventurer for Hire.

He couldn’t imagine the restless, fiery Dainty ever putting down her ax permanently, even if she did someday step back from the Scions of the Seventh Dawn.

And, should she expect him to provide for her, or their family if that was what Fate and the Future held for them, it was not beyond him. 

He had been a mere teenager when he built the Enterprise, out of scraps lying around his Fathers’ workshop. The things he could build now, with his military service and time in the Ironworks added to his repertoire would likely fetch a very high price on the open market.

Don't question this, just take the chance you've been given. - Cid tol Garlond cautioned himself.

He tended to overthink things and that would get him nowhere with someone as unpredictable as Dainty.

There was a soft, timid knock at the door, managing to convey wordlessly that whoever stood on the other side was nervous, and unsure.

Cid fully leapt out of the chair, bolting across the room to drag the wooden door open, revealing a rather bedraggled looking Dainty.

It had started raining at some point on her journey from Ishgard to Idyllshire. Her naturally curly hair pulled straight by the weight of the water, her braids drooping and dripping onto the leather coat she wore.

Even still she was possibly the most beautiful thing Cid tol Garlond had ever seen in his life, mascara smears and her pants caked with mud kicked up from her chocobo’s feet and all.

His heart twinged, gladdened that she came to him the very moment she returned, not even bothering to return to her own quarters to change, or dry her hair.

Some part of her had clearly know that he was anxious to see her and would not have wanted her to linger in Idyllshire even a second without his knowing it after her promise to be his once she returned.

“You look like a woman in need of a hot bath and a glass of something red and potent.” Cid observed softly, stepping back so that she could enter and giving her a welcoming smile.

He was unsure if he ought to kiss her at this point.

Some instinct suggested he ought, but her stance in the doorway, arms hanging limp and an unsure expression in her eyes suggested she would not be receptive to it if he tried.

“That…. sounds nice.” Dainty owned, moving inside so that he could close the door behind her. 

She began to shed her mud stained clothing and leave it by the door where it would not soil the rug or furnishings.

Cid tol Garlond went quickly to the bathroom to run a bath for her and dig out a bottle of wine.

He had used his bonus week wages to purchase a selection in anticipation of Dainty’s return. He preferred beer personally but knew she preferred sweet reds and sparkling whites simply by having watched what she tended to select for herself in the time that he had been observing her from afar.

Dainty had disrobed to just her small clothes when he returned, the tub would take a little while to fill and he could pour her a glass between now and then.

His eyes lingered on the pale scales at her hips, despite desperately trying to drag them up to her face. He knew he was biased but he really did think her stunning.

“Will you join me?” Dainty requested softly, accepting a glass of red wine from his hand trustingly. Once upon a time she might have sniffed it pointedly, as if checking for poison but now she raised it to her mouth without hesitation.

She had managed to put her thoughts in a somewhat sensible sort of order in Ishgard.

Enough to acknowledge that no matter what he had or had not been, she wanted him. And also that she was nervous as all Seven Hells.

Cid tried and failed not to grin at the invitation. The fact she desired to be physically close to him, naked, in a not entirely large bathtub was very pleasing.

“If you like.” He offered, voice deep. 

“I would.” Dainty nodded, then moved in the direction of the bathroom to shed the last of her clothing.

He moved to shed the majority of his own clothes before Dainty calling “Bring the wine!” from the bathroom drew another smile from him. 

When he joined her, she had taken a couple leaves from the plant in the corner of the bathroom and was crushing them between her hands before adding them to the water to create a gently lemon scented foam that covered the top of the water. 

“I was wondering why the Hells there a plant in is here.” Cid tol Garlond admitted, having had no idea it was anything other than someone’s poor attempt at interior decorating.

“The layer of foam helps keep the water warm.” Dainty observed, then with a breath to steel her nerves deftly removed the last of her clothing.

Being naked didn’t bother her but being naked with another person present was not something she had done in several summers.

Her awkwardness was utterly endearing in Cid’s opinion, finding the excuse of topping up her glass to prevent himself from tactlessly and openly staring at her naked form as she climbed gracefully into the tub before sitting to one side so that he would have plenty of room to climb in after her.

She'd downed most of her glass already and she smiled at him angelically when he handed her the replenished glass, taking several very careful sips from it so as to not openly stare at him as he similarly removed the last of his clothing. 

He climbed into tub with her, his added body mass causing a small over flow that neither of them noticed.

She tried to keep her eyes to herself but it was clear he would have no problems satisfying even the most demanding woman, there was a touch of heat in her cheeks that had nothing to do with the wine or the bath.

Cid settled himself to recline against the far wall so that they could both sit opposite one another, foam protecting their modesty, although for Dainty, barely.

It took Cid tol Garlond several long moments to drag his eyes up from her breasts, the foam slipping down her wet skin so that her nipples were only just barely covered.

He distracted himself by reaching for a hand towel, running it under the faucet for clean water and a little soap before gently taking her chin in one large hand and ever so carefully cleaning the mascara smears off her cheeks for her.

“You’ve sisters.” Dainty observed, eyes closed, feeling the towel moving across her skin and scales. The fact he thought to use fresh water, rather than bath water, to clean the delicate skin of her face strongly suggested he was familiar with a woman’s beauty routines.

Indicating he shared a bathroom with a sister or two as a child.

“Nope. Only child.” Cid tol Garlond corrected, rinsing the hand towel of soap under the faucet before wiping the soap off her face. His task performed he sat back, watching the confused Au’Ra sipping her wine, eyes slightly narrowed in suspicion.

“Were you once married?”

“No.” Cid shook his head, then admitted rather ruefully. “I’ve been with a lot of women, Dainty.”

He didn’t particularly want to own that, but it was the truth and she probably ought to know.

If they were going to be together honesty was important.

“How many is a lot?” Dainty questioned.

“Hundreds.”

Her eyebrows shot up and there must have been an utterly scandalized expression on her face because Cid tol Garlond instantly looked guilty, holding his hands up, placating. “T’was early in my military career. There is naught t’do on campaign once the canons are silenced and the Keeper knows I. Did. Not. Want. To. Be. There. The wages were too shit to drown my sorrows in drink, so I turned to women. In the XIVth alone there was a ready supply of them who were all too aware a name like Garlond could open doors for them. Never mind the Ladies of lesser Noble houses looking to make an advantages match.” 

“So you took advantage of them trying to take advantage of you.”

“Yes. Although I was always clear I promised and desired nothing more than a pleasurable distraction, that my commitment was to the XIVth alone. A future was not something they would get from me.” Cid tol Garlond insisted very seriously, shifting uncomfortably in the warm water.

He wanted her to understand he had never manipulated someone into his bed. That was not and never had been his game.

To be honest he was not entirely sure how she would react to his speaking openly about his time in the Imperial Army. She was obviously aware it had occurred yet hearing him reference it plainly might be something of a turn off to her and he would understand why. 

When they were at the baths he had been very careful to tell her only stories about Magitek School or the Ironworks, completely glossing over his military career both because he did not wish to speak of it and because he did not want to add to her stress when she was already paranoid of his intentions.

Dainty was not unsympathetic to the notion of trying to forget one’s woes through chemical means. She was currently half way through her second glass of wine. 

She was aware she probably drank entirely too much and had no leg to stand on to judge Cid tol Garlond for once engaging in a similarly unhealthy coping mechanism.

“I can’t tell if you’re furious or disgusted.” Cid admitted with a shaky laugh, Dainty’s stoic features betraying nothing as she looked at her wine glass.

Her head jerked up quickly, a reassuring smile on her wine stained mouth.

“Neither! You’ve a past. So what? We aren’t children. It would be folly to think neither of us have secrets buried in unmarked fields so to speak.” Dainty insisted before she paused, taking a mouthful of wine before hugging her arms to her chest a little and looking, to Cid’s eyes at least, rather insecure. “You… will have to forgive me my rather amateur performance between the sheets however. I…” she actually blushed and Cid tol Garlond was instantly enraptured to see the flush of pink across her cheeks. “… your count may stand at hundreds but mine own is rather less.”

“How few is less?”

“2”

“2?!” Cid laughed before he could catch himself, both amused and shocked by this.

She was above 30 summers, even factoring in her devotion to her work as a Scions he had not expected quite such an extreme separation in experience between them.

“There was always something more important to do!” Dainty insisted, offended by his reaction. 

“I’m not laughing at you, I promise.” Cid tol Garlond promised, blue eyes drinking her in, full of smiles and, Dainty thought, affection.

“Then what are you laughing at?” she asked, tone suspicious.

“At how ridiculously, unbelievably, stupid lucky I am to even be considered for addition to such an exclusive club.” 

Her eyes were wide a vulnerable, chin tipped down slightly as she looked at him over the rim of her wine glass;

“You don’t think me silly to be so wholly timid in bed? I, who slay Primals?”

“No, Dainty. Not in the slightest.” Cid tol Garlond reassured her. “To own the truth I tend to be a touch aggressive in bed, if your inexperience makes you passive you’ll hear no complaints from me.” 

He would have been happy to adapt his style to whatever she preferred, whatever would bring her pleasure but learning that she might be on the more submissive side, which was his preference, was far from bad news to Cid.

Dainty relaxed at that, polishing off the wine to set aside her now empty wine glass and looked at him somewhat expectantly. Cid rather thought she might be receptive to being kissed now.

He moved towards her carefully, her eyes jumping to his, wary but not discouraging. She shifted slightly so that he could come closer, which Cid tol Garlond took as a rather good sign.

She tensed a little as his thick, muscular arms came around her but didn’t protest, allowing him to draw her into his arms and kiss her rain damp mint green hair gently before slowly, ever so slowly, he made a move for her mouth.

It was a touch awkward at first, Dainty was still hunched in a little on herself and the size difference meant both had their necks positioned somewhat oddly.

She broke the kiss to blush, straightening her spine and adjusting her legs beneath her to raise her height a little, even though doing so exposed her breasts from beneath the water and foam level, before trying again.

Lips touched… and lingered. 

Her hands instinctively curling around his neck and shoulders to steady herself so she could relax into the affection, one of his hands cupping the back of her head so that she could fully untense without slipping down, or away from him.

Dainty gave a soft little noise, pulling herself closer still, lips parting beneath his as his tongue flicked ever so teasingly against her lower lip, angling her head just a whisker more to prolong the kiss.

She felt it all the way down to her toes. If they had been standing one of her legs would have bent itself at the knee, lifting a foot off the ground.

Somewhere in the back of his mind Cid tol Garlond acknowledged it was a damn good kiss. 

It was followed by several more, Dainty managing to wiggle a little closer each time as his arms closed tighter around her, requiring her to adjust position yet again in the hot water, almost fully straddling him without even realizing what she was doing just wholly possessed by desire to keep kissing him.

She leaned in to kiss him again, her tongue stroking against his.

Their kisses, tentative at first were now more heated as passion and arousal started to run away with them.

“We ought stop....” Cid tol Garlond murmured as they paused for breath.

“We ought?” Dainty asked skeptically. She was rather happy right where she was, straddling his hips, her lips tingling from their kisses.

“You are drunk.” Cid pointed out.

“… spoilsport.” Dainty pouted, she didn't feel drunk, a bit lightheaded perhaps but mostly she felt warm and like she wanted to run her hands up his chest some more.

She could not deny, however, that she had just downed two very full glasses of wine quite quickly on a mostly empty stomach.

“I promise you will not find me so if you still desire me so fervently when sober.” Cid tol Garlond assured her, rather enjoying the sensation of her water hot hands stroking up his bare chest.

“I will.” Dainty grinned.

“I hope so.” Cid tol Garlond replied with a grin of his own.  
She leaned in to kiss him, which he allowed for only a few moments before breaking the kiss before it could become too involved.

Dainty snuggled into Cid tol Garlond, tucking her head under his chin to just embrace him. Cid adjusted their positions to recline in the tub, adjusting his arms around her gently but firmly so that her body lay half atop his, half floating in the warm water.  
Beneath the water he could feel her scales against his skin. There weren’t sharp, as he thought they might be. They felt almost like the skin of an aquatic creature. Textured but not unpleasant to stroke his hands against as he gently rubbed increasingly sized circles against her back.

Dainty lay against Cid tol Garlond, her head tucked against his shoulder and just enjoying the sensations of his hands moving across her skin.

Although she was incredibly hyper aware of that masculine body beneath her own and all the places their skin touched.

She was proud of herself, if she was honest.

It was not easy for someone who had spent most of her life literally fleeing from romance and intimacy to accept being naked and being touched tenderly so quickly.

Dainty gave a little sigh, closing her eyes. 

Cid tol Garlond was awfully comfy to lay against, and the water was so pleasantly hot, and the wine was making her dopey.

She just wanted to rest her eyes a little, that was all. 

Cid felt her go limp against him and smiled gently, calculating they had at least an hour before the water became too cold to be pleasant, and he could maintain that angle of his shoulders and arms so that her mouth would not fall below the waterline a while yet.

She could sleep there, at least a little, without any complaint from him.


	20. TWENTY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dainty finally gets whats hers.

Dainty woke up being carefully jostled in Cid tol Garlonds’ arms so that he could gather his feet beneath him and stand straight up, baring her weight easily.

“Hmm I’m sorry.” She murmured, feeling bad for having fallen asleep when they were having such a nice bath.

He set her on her feet, wrapping a towel around her quickly and slinging another around his own hips before noting;

“You rode Ishgard to Idyllshire twice in the same day, once with the Keeper of the Seventh gate at your heels thinking it an emergency. You have nothing to apologize for.” 

He scooped the sleepy auri back up into his arms, cradling her rather tenderly.

It was only a moments work to carry her from the bathroom to set her down on the sofa by the fire to dry with a grin; “Given how little you’ve been sleeping it was reassuring to know you got some for once.”

Cid tol Garlond quickly retreated to find some clothing. It had been nice to be so trusted by Dainty that she was comfortable falling asleep literally on him. 

Contrasting that with how uneasy she had been sleeping even slightly near him, even with Nero fully present in Ishgard, and Cid tol Garlond was entirely pleased by this change.  
Dainty had discarded her towel and had exchanged the couch for his bed when Cid tol Garlond returned and was sitting under the blankets, eyes bright and alert. 

The nap had obviously refreshed her now that she had blinked off the last vestiges of it.

Her location prompted a look of amused surprise from Cid, running a hand through his white hair with a chuckle;

“Why do I have a feeling it’s not another nap you’re angling for?”

It was only just gone the hour of 7. Far too early to go to bed and the halls would be empty a while yet, ceding them plenty of privacy.

“I can be a bit stoic, I thought this would be unambiguous enough a declaration of intent.” Dainty offered with a little smile and Cid tol Garlond utterly melted, looking at those over bright magenta eyes with their faintly glowing orange limbal rings before she smirked with a tease; “Unless you think we ought to wait some more?”

He had never seen a soft, genuine smile that touched her eyes liked that, even if it quickly disappeared behind a rather sassy expression as she took to teasing him.

“Not in the slightest.” Cid tol Garlond promised, shucking his clothes and slipping beneath the sheets with her. She turned to him eagerly and, his voice very, very deep, admitted; “I’ve wanted you since before Starlight” 

He barely gave her a moment to process that before kissing her demandingly. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck, melting into the kiss as he coaxed her into lying flat with his body weight and shoving her legs apart with his knees. His hands found her hips, giving her a solid yank beneath him and earning him a slightly startled noise from Dainty.

Cid tol Garlond instantly released her hips, murmuring:

“Sorry, sorry.”

He had given her full warning of his tendency to be aggressive but was aware he was probably coming on a trifle too strong with her. His lust-soaked brain misfiring at the thrill of actually getting to touch her, after all his fantasies.

“I didn’t dislike that.” Dainty offered softly, and he could read the insecurity in her eyes. She had found the way he had manhandled her to be simultaneously confusing and erotic. When Cid had voiced that she might be passive he had been a lot more accurate than he had known. “I’m sorry, I’m not very good at this.”

“No, no that was my mistake.” Cid reassured her with a gentle kiss that Dainty allowed but broke to look up at the white haired Garlean above her, still wanting to explain herself;

“If you want to be aggressive with me, then do so! I don’t what I like but I know I want to learn what you like. The only thing I ask if that you feel the need to pull me by the tail make sure you do it from the base, not the tip.”

There were bones that were not dissimilar from finger bones in the pointed tip of her tail that could get broken easily whereas the base where it exited her spine was mostly solid muscle.

Even with his sordid past with women she doubted Au’Ra were common in the XIVth, or Garlemald enough for him to have a Ra’en notch in his headboard.  
Cid tol Garlond stared at her for a second, her words percolating through his brain.

She was serious, he could see it in her eyes. That was a hell of an offer, advance permission to do whatever he pleased with her. He was not convinced she knew what she was getting herself into with a statement like that.

“You’re somewhat handing me a loaded gun there, Dainty.”

She raised a hand to his cheek, giving his beard a playful little scruff and giggling;

“Oh good, you’re competent with weaponry.”

“Just promise you will let me know if I do something you don’t like. Yell, or hit, Hells, anything.” Cid tol Garlond stressed. “Believe me, I’d rather know than not.”

“I promise.” Dainty replied diligently. “But you must’nt stop on every odd little noise I make. I warned you I’m an amateur. I am very certain I shall be making a lot of them!”

“I’m flattered by your confidence in my abilities.” Cid told her with a grin, moving to the side and more or less lifting her over him as he rolled onto his back so that she straddled him again, like she had in the bath.

Dainty wasn’t entirely pleased by this, she had been relieved to know he was confident enough to take charge. Being suddenly put back in control was not ideal but she very quickly learned that, although position had changed, the power dynamic had not.

His hands slid up her arms, catching her around the biceps and pulling her in for another demanding kiss, tongue stroking against hers when she parted her lips obediently.

Cid tol Garlonds’s hands instantly covered her breasts cupping the sensitive flesh and she gave a gasp of surprise against his mouth.

“Too soon?” he questioned, instantly moving his hands to her shoulders to gently stroke down her arms. That hadn’t been an “odd little noise” but a distinct noise of what could have been protest.

Dainty smiled, taking his wrists and guiding his hands back to her breasts, flattening her hands over his to hold them against her skin.

“It was unfamiliar, that is all.” 

Slow down – Cid tol Garlond scolded himself.

Just because he had permission to do what he wanted did not mean he needed to rush.

She wasn't heavy at all, although her body was rubbing up against him in some rather interesting ways, cock stirring to life against her leg, all desire to go slow utterly deserting him.

“I don’t want to be up here.” Dainty informed him with a cheeky little grin. He had told her to let him know if he did anything she did not like, after all.

“You, mmfff, could have fooled me.” Cid commented as she pouted, giving a little writhe of her hips and provoking a hiss of pleasure from Cid.

“Nope!” Dainty chirped, rolling her hips again but arms folded and face turned away, as if her top half had no idea what her bottom half was doing.

Cid tol Garlond laughed, grabbing her by the arms and dragging her down to the bed with a purred;

“C'mere.”

She was quickly pulled underneath him again, without a lick of complaint from her this time, his larger body covering her smaller scaled one.

Cid tol Garlond leaned in to kiss her, reverently at first and when he touched her it was gently although it did not remain that way for long.  
Dainty melted into their kisses, eyes closed and focusing on his hands, stoking up and down her arms and mouth on hers. His large hands found her scaled wrists, curling around them and drawing her arms above her head.

When she did not protest her wrists were transferred to 1 hand, and held there. 

Cid broke the kiss to move his mouth to her breasts via her neck. Soft, chaste little kisses down her chin and throat, 7 in total, then tongue stroking across the scales that marked her neck and collar bones as his free hand gently cupped her flesh to flick a thumb across a dusky nipple, stiffening it with his touch.

His mouth, hot and wet, worshiped her skin, laving one nipple, then the other in turn

“mmm..” Dainty gave a little squirm, tugging on her wrists to be free but not hard enough to break Cid tol Garlond’s grip.

A curl of heat manifest in Dainty’s body and a little bolt of arousal sent a small shock through her core.

She wasn’t sure if it was from being restrained in particular or just a natural reaction to having a hard, hot male body on top of her own after so long without.

As she had silently observed to herself at the baths she was utterly touched starved and the sensation of Cid tol Garlond’s skin against her own so overwhelmingly was playing a glorious sort of havoc with her pulse.

“The things I have wanted to do to you.” Cid murmured against her skin his mouth moved between her breasts, tongue stroking the valley between them.

She moaned softly again, squirming against the sensations a little.

She was right, the notches in his headboard contained no other Au'Ra and Cid tol Garlond was incredibly curious as to how those scales of hers might be teased and tormented. His Garlean blue eyes a blaze with lust and the desire to consume her he went searching for every erogenous zone on Dainty's body.

He found several, giving up his grip on her wrists to instead investigate her scales as fully as he had longed desired.

Dainty had unusually ticklish hips, he discovered, no wonder she had reacted so obviously when he gripped her by them when she was generally somewhat quiet and stoic. Her tells of enjoyment were on the subtler side but Cid tol Garlond was practiced enough to read them, mentally cataloging all the things that prompted a noticeable reaction from her.

She liked her hips stroked, despite their ticklishness, or perhaps because of it.

She liked to be kissed. Hard, rough kisses and soft gentle kisses and everything in between.

She quite liked it when he rested his full weight against her, almost crushing her into the bed, for doing so mid-kiss never failed to result in her wrapping her arms around his torso and dragging her nails down his back.  
His lips moved over her ribs as his hands stroked her hips and thighs. His explorations had left her breathless and a little shaky. 

“hhhhmm….Cid….” she gave a hazy little murmur, pressing kisses to his throat and fully throbbing in desire. 

For someone “aggressive” he was going torturously slow with her and she rather wanted him to speed things up. If she could just stop panting long enough to convey that.

She might have been far less experienced than he, and quite willing to be pinned down on her back but she was not completely without her tricks. Her hands smoothing across his skin, over his hips and dropping between their bodies to cup his and massage his length until it was fully hard.

Cid tol Garlond groaned a little, closing his eyes and just savoring her touches. For someone who claimed to be an amateur she was certainly quite good at that, her little hand stroking and squeezing just enough to be pleasurable.

Her body writhing slightly against his, the nails of her free hand dragging down his muscular arms and her hot kisses were rapidly going to prove too much for Cid. He grabbed her wrists, pulling her arms up to the pillow on either side of her head.

She looked up at him with a ribald, impish smile, pleased with herself at having provoked him

Cid gave a small chuckle at her, ducking his head to kiss her mouth again. He wasn’t entirely sure he deserved quite the amount of trust she was placing in him, but he wanted to deserve it.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” He pressed softly, despite his behavior so far, a moment of insecurity plagued him.

“Achingly.” Dainty replied, slipping her legs around his hips and pulling his lower body against hers more fervently.

Cid interlaced his fingers with hers, her hands held to the pillow on either side of her head by the weight of his own but she looked up at him fearlessly. 

He dropped a hand to her cunt, fingers teasing her, just a little, provoking a wanton roll of her hips before he gripped his length in one hand and guided himself to her entrance.

Dainty gave a sharp gasp of delight, arching her back a little as Cid’s cock penetrated her. She was so tight, despite being well wet and aroused, he managed barely an inch before meeting resistance.

A little flex of his hips earned a soft gasp from Dainty. He repeated the movement several times so that he gained deeper penetration on each calculated stroke.

“Oh… oh Gods.” Dainty murmured, one of her hands still held by his, the other instinctively thrown around his neck as her body arched. Her eyes fluttered closed, half lost in the sensations rippling through her.

Cid tol Garlond moved with such deliberate care, letting her feel the length and width of him as he slid in and out of her tight body until she was easily able to take all of him. 

Soft gasps and little moans spilled from between her lips, her skin felt like it was on fire and she utterly loved it. Why had she denied herself this for so long? Was she crazy?

Cid moved only his hips, just enjoying the sensation of his cock sliding in and out of her tight cunt. He had hoped that, someday in a far off distant future, he might earn her friendship and instead she was here, in his bed, wrapped around him like liquid silk.

“You are so amazing.” He told her, capturing her mouth in a kiss just absolutely luxuriating in the fact it was Dainty he was doing this with.

A distinctly carnal sounding moan escaped Dainty, neck elongating as her back arched again.

Something about that angle was doing something for her. He was buried so deep, moving only a little but quite rapidly and the sensation of him on her and in her was sending electricity coursing through her.

Cid tol Garlond smirked.

He knew that noise, holding his angle and speeding up a whisker. She clawed down his sweat slicked back mindlessly in response.

Cid hissed in pain, and pleasure but was only too happy to comply with her nonverbal demands, her hips starting to roll in time to his thrusts. He ran his hands over her breasts and gripped her hips and pressed kisses across her neck and pouted lips.

All while still moving at that quickened pace and at that angle. 

“Oh.. oh oh!” Dainty’s mouth fell open, her hands ended up on his backside, clutching and trying to encourage him to rail into her harder. Her voice hitching in a desperate little gasp as their bodies rocked together.

Cid tol Garlond couldn’t help himself, pumping harder and faster into her, feeling the familiar tightening sensation across his balls growing on every stroke. He was fixing to lose it and he was damned if he could hold it back.

The fact he was fucking Dainty was enough to get him there all on its own, he had fantasized about it often enough, never mind the way she was bucking and writhing beneath him, her legs locked around his body.

She fully jolted suddenly with a drawn out cry, cunt going into spasm as climax tore through her slender form.

He buried his face in her neck, groaning at the pure pleasure overload as her inner muscles clenched on his length spasmodically. He tried to hold still, worried about hurting her but the friction and heat was too much for Cid.

With a quick snap of his hips he was cumming deep inside her and fully growling as he did, all sense of restraint completely deserting him.

“.. oh.. oh..oh…?” Dainty was sighing a little on each breath, as if startled by what her body had just done as stars spun behind Cid tol Garlond’s tightly squeezed eyes.

He had to own to being a little staggered himself at just how well they had fit together, despite her not really displaying any preference for him one way or another until the moment she asked him to join her in the bathtub. 

The chemistry between them, once she stopped suppressing it, was palpable.

Cid moved to disengage their bodies, only to be thwarted when Dainty’s grip tensed and she murmured a soft little; “Don’t go.”

She was so content there, lying beneath him and he did not have to worry about squashing her too badly. He had seen her go toe to toe with dragons, after all.

“Alright.” He murmured, wrapping her up in his arms a little before slumping, utterly boneless against her, his limbs as trembly as hers. 

Dainty made a happy little humming noise, stroking the arches of her feet shakily down the back of his calves.

They lay there for several long minutes, just sort of holding each other until a pervasive “what now” feeling started to creep up Dainty’s spine. Now that lust had been slaked and desire satisfied, what the Seven Hells was she supposed to do next?

There was more to relationships than sex, she just didn’t know what those things were necessarily. She couldn’t even commit to the same coat for longer than a week, what was she going to do with Cid tol Garlond?  
She’d experienced this once before, after talking herself out of her crush on Urianger. It had worked then too, and she was not sure how to stop it.

Cid moved away from her after several glorious, languid moments.

Gently withdrawing from inside her and heading to the bathroom with a reassuring smile. He returned promptly with a wash cloth dampened with cool water and pressed it between her legs for her to prevent messy leaks and to soothe her in case he had been a little too aggressive when she had been without for so long.  
His laundry list of experience with the opposite sex was showing but the considerate action prompted an uninhibited, genuine smile from Dainty.

“Thank you.”

“Of course. Do you want anything? Food, or water, or round 2?” Cid flirted gently, not sure how that would be received, he wasn’t entirely sure what was cooking behind those limbal ringed eyes of hers.

Her smile brightened and at the same time they both noted; “Wine” which prompted a giggle from Dainty. 

She always wanted wine.

Cid quickly went to fetch the bottle and glass from the bathroom as Dainty sat up in bed a little, accepting a new glass and one for himself besides, he preferred beer but he would drink red wine.

She could keep anything white to herself.

Dainty carefully held them steady as Cid tol Garlond climbed back into bed, adjusting so that she could lean against him sweetly. 

He kissed the top of her head gently, then couldn’t not help but ask against her hair;

“What is going through that head of yours?”

Dainty considered that, trying to formulate her thoughts.

She didn’t know what to do with him, she really didn’t but she had not known what to do with the pain of losing her family either and that had not ended entirely poorly for her so far.

“Pain made me a Warrior. Fear made me a Healer…. I am curious to discover what love makes me.”

“Mine.” Cid answered immediately, heart fit to burst out of his chest at her swift use of the word, wrapping her up tightly with his free arm and kissing her head again several times. “Little love, it makes you mine.”


	21. TWENTY ONE AND EPILOGUE

Dainty woke up, somewhat inexplicably to Cid tol Garlond shushing someone insistently, both trying to be loud enough to get their attention, and quiet enough not to disturb her.

She gave a little stir against the warm arms that held her so gently as consciousness manifest itself.

“Dammit, Nero! She was so peaceful.”  
Dainty realized what had happened instantly, gave a little squeak and shoved herself down under the blankets where she couldn't be seen in a panic.

The Scaevan Ironworks did not have an official start time of a morning but Nero absolutely expected everyone up once he was ready to start work for the day.

To this end he usually positioned his sleep quarters at the very back of any Ironworks encampment and woke the others still sleeping as he traversed the distance from his rooms to the forging fires in the morning.

Nero, walking the halls and knocking on doors to rouse the fellows had failed to coax Cid from within, due to his ignoring the call to rise in favor of letting Dainty sleep in his arms., leading Nero to make a return trip to knock more insistently and, when that also failed to felicitate a response, simply opening the door to walk in.

Nero scratched one stubbled cheek for a moment as Cid tol Garlond sat up slightly, holding the blankets to shield Dainty from sight as she clearly desired.  
“Right then....” Nero observed, promptly turning on his heel and exiting before he saw something he had no desire to see. 

He had opened the non-lockable door to Cid to Garlond's room intending to throw something at the white haired man, who Nero had honestly assumed was hung over from drinking himself into a stupor with his fellows the night before.

“Is he gone?” Dainty asked, peaking out at Cid from beneath the blankets looking shy. 

“Yes.” Cid confirmed, and she relaxed with a sigh, rolling over to bury herself back into the blankets. 

Cid tol Garlond might need to get up but she didn't. 

He looked at the now closed door where Nero had stood, shrugged and promptly spooned himself around Dainty for a snuggle, drawing an amused little giggle from Dainty.

“What? Nero didn't tell me to get up.” Cid tol Garlond said from behind her and she could hear the wicked laughter in his voice.  
“Mmmm true.” she snuggled herself into his embrace, content. “I slept devastatingly well. I can only assume you spent the night arranging yourself in positions that were comfortable for me.”

“A little.” Cid admitted, then hurriedly added. “But it was far from a chore! Honestly, if I can sleep in the shithole the Imperial Army calls a barracks I can sleep anywhere. Including with a gorgeous woman using my entire left side as a mattress.”  
Dainty giggled softly letting her eyes close.

“You... you don't regret last night... do you?” Cid tol Garlond asked softly, a niggling bit of insecurity plaguing him at the way she hid from view, not wanting to be seen in his bed.  
“Of course not!”

“The way you hid I...”

“I. Am. Naked.” Dainty said forcefully, all thought of future sleep driven from her mind. 

She did not give a damn if the entirety of Idyllshire knew she'd slept with Cid the night before but she had absolutely no desire for anyone other than him to see her naked. 

That went triple for Nero, her best friend.  
Cid tol Garlond laughed at himself a little for his momentary, unwarranted doubts, uttering a soft;  
“Yes, yes, you are, Dainty, I am being idiotic. I just did not want you to ever regret going to bed with a pure blooded Garlean. Not for even an ilm. I don't care what your Hydaelyn says.”

Dainty paused, shuffling around in his embrace so that she could look up at him, running her fingers tenderly through his white hair.

“I would not be here without Hydaelyn's commands.” She acknowledged, to claim otherwise would be a lie and she could understand why it might cause him concern as he did not fully understand the Echo's true nature. “But that command was solely to not ignore that which already resided within my heart. It did not create my feelings for you. You did that and frankly you may shout that from the rooftops if you so desire, but I'll be damned if any eyes but yours see me nude.”

“I might shout that from the rooftops.” Cid tol Garlond smiled, grateful for her reassuring words and kissing her, just once, very chastely. “If it would not get me murdered by half the Ironworks out of jealousy.”

“Meh. We could take 'em.” Dainty smirked.

“I don't know, we are outnumbered, 3 to 1 and we would have to go through Carine. She is no slouch! Also, we're both damage dealing Warriors, our fight styles are too similar to be effective against multiple combatants” Cid tol Garlond strategized, jokingly, as if this were a real battle they may soon face.

“And why do you think I returned to Ishgard to train as a healer?” Dainty asked, her tone undeniably smug and reaching up to tap his nose gently with one finger. “You know damn well I was not truly bored at the baths, you were far too fastidious a caretaker for that! I needed time to order my thoughts and the notion occurred that were someone ever to object to my taking up with a pure blooded Garlean we would not make an effective team for the exact reasons you noted. Since the Blessing grants me the ability to learn new combat skills at a preternatural speed, I elected to use my time correcting that tactical disadvantage.”  
Cid tol Garlond blinked at her, struck by her forethought and compassion much like he was when she admitted to turning back in an attempt to save Gaius's life at the Praetorium.

She knew their relationship might cause enough anger for things to become violent in some circles and kept her desire for him to herself until such time as she felt adequately equipped to meet any threat, only betraying herself when he might have been hurt by an incorrect assumption as to her whereabouts and motivations.  
“Then you're right, the Ironworks would be fucked.” Cid tol Garlond quipped with a smile, touched by her behavior.

A loud knocking on the door interrupted them;

“Oi! You better not have gone back to bed, Garlond!” 

“You can’t say he didn’t tell you to get up now.” Dainty giggled at the interruption as Cid heaved an over-dramatic sigh, pretending that having to leave her in his bed was truly the most wretchedly awful thing that had ever happened to him.

“Coming, Boss.” Cid gave a shout, sarcastically drawling the word “boss” as Dainty sat up to stretch, then changed her mind to snuggle back into the blankets some more.

He might have to get up, but she still didn’t have to. Cid tol Garlond shot her a mock unimpressed look. “Rub it in, Dainty.”

She did little more than give a contented sigh, hugging his pillow to prop up her shoulder since he was no longer available to lean on.  
With a laugh Cid tol Garlond dressed, noting quietly that he smelled of Dainty and frankly being perfectly alright with that before strolling out into the corridor to greet Nero and begin his work day.

 

Dainty’s axe had remained exactly where she had left it in the Idyllshire cenotaph. Her rage and Echo born strength driving it into the hard earth with enough force that none but herself possessed the wherewithal to remove it.  
Several treasure hunters had tried, thinking the axe of the famed Warrior of Light would fetch a pretty penny on the Collectors’ market however it stubbornly refused to be lifted.  
At least until Dainty strolled into Idyllshire to claim it, clad in one of Cid’s shirts as a dress, belted around her tiny waist and her leather boots. Her clothes were still stained from travel and the t-shirt looked well-worn enough that she doubted Cid tol Garlond would mind her cutting a tail hole into it.  
One hand curled around the axe handle, she gave barely a shrug and it came free of its earthen grasp at once to be reclaimed by its mistress before she sauntered towards the Scaevan Ironworks encampment.  
“Nero!” Dainty hailed the tall, blond man sharply, striding towards him and earning herself a cringe and a soft;

“Don't hit, don’t hit! I didn't see nuthing! … oh!”

He was given a solid hug around his midsection, rather than the slapping he had instantly anticipated with a light laugh and a friendly; “Hi, Dainty. What is this for?”

“Do not think me unaware you devoted company time and money you can ill afford to ensure I was left alone to recover.” Dainty replied, releasing his ribs.

“Oh, it was no chore, other than dodging pointed questions from Carine’s mother. I am most relieved you are feeling better.” Nero gave a rather airy wave, before muttering a little, tone and pitch low so that only she would hear it; “However if you suddenly took it into your head to commission some new armor I’d not say no.”

“I am feeling better!” Dainty agreed loudly, playing along. “Better enough to need a new jacket and funnily enough, a little mammet told me that one of your employees crafted himself some rather smashing armor for venturing into Alexander. I’d rather like to commission myself a set, both for Warrior and Astrologian, if you please.”  
Carine sauntering over from the breakfast area with a brace of coffees balanced easily on a unsanded length of wood caught Dainty’s eye and the auri smiled; “Oh and a set for Carine. Can’t have my favorite bard going into battle with me under dressed.”

“Gladly.” Nero grinned. 

By requesting and paying full price for a set for each discipline, Warrior, Damage Dealer and Healer she was guaranteeing he would be able to cheaply make and sell additional sets, since all the research and development on the armor had already been done on Dainty’s dime.  
Any money brought in by Adventurers with enough coin or tomestones to purchase the armor from there would be, more or less, pure profit and Scaevan Ironworks gear, especially when worn by the Warrior of Light, tended to be in high demand. 

“Hi, Dainty.” Carine smiled, only catching the tail end of the exchange. “Coffee?”

She no longer felt any twinge of jealousy to see Dainty and Nero hug and instead it gladdened her. It was slow going but Nero was opening up to her, little by little, about his past and it made Carine intensely happy that he had found a friend in so notable a person as the Warrior of Light.

Who knows how overwhelming the prejudice he had faced as a pure blooded Garlean might have been to a man who already had nothing, had his confidence not been so buoyed by her and the Scions of the Seventh Dawn.  
“Thank you.” Dainty took the cup, then looked around for a set of white locks, spying them bent over a metal milling machine but watching her surreptitiously. The scrutiny no longer bothered her, and she instead blew Cid a kiss, earning him several jealous looks from others in the Scaevan Ironworks.

Dainty grinned, and moved to head over there.

“Uh-uh! Don’t distract my employees” Nero tutted at her.

“Too late!” Dainty sing-songed, she could do that solely by existing.

Besides, Cid tol Garlond was hers now.

She’d distract him if she bloody well wanted to.

 

 

EPILOGUE

 

*jingle* *jingle *jingle* 

“…the Seven Hells is that?” Nero muttered, looking up from the list of documents scattered across the table in front of him.

*jingle* *jingle* *jin…!*

The noise abruptly stopped as a pair of scaled arms were thrown around Cid tol Garlonds’ midsection from behind as his Au’Ra girlfriend pressed herself tightly against his back.

“Oh good, you finally put a bell on her.” Nero observed to Lyse, Alphinaud and Alisaie as they strolled into view from arriving via Atheryte. They were all quite immune to the over affectionate antics of Dainty towards Cid by now and mostly ignored the behavior that would draw double takes from others.

No one could begrudge really her, the couple had barely seen each other while Dainty had been in Doma, stirring up a rebellion against the Imperial occupiers.

With the Scaevan Ironworks’ attention entirely locked on the Allagans monstrosity known as Omega there had been little opportunity for the pair to rendezvous.

“Lyse beat up a Namazu in Kugane and I stole his bell.” Dainty announced, voice muffled by the fact her face was buried between Cid’s shoulder blades.

“Oh I see.” Cid chuckled, even though he understood only some of these words. He was confident she would explain what a “namazu” and a “kugane” were shortly, and why Lyse was beating up these bells wearing things, whatever they were.

“Stop distracting my employees, Dainty.” Nero scolded but there was an affectionate smile on his handsome features, and amusement dancing in his Garlean blue eyes.

It was refreshing to see the often cold, hyper violent Dainty being sweet and gentle. No one could deny that Cid tol Garlond had been good for the woman, coaxing a calmer, gentler side out of her, provided no one gave her any lip about dating a Garlean.

She’d throw a punch real quick over that several people up to and including Flame General Raubahn Aldynn and Thancred had learned.

“Shut up, Nero.” Dainty retorted without a lick of malice.

“You shut up, you awful alcoholic Au’Ra.”

Dainty giggled, snuffling her face into Cid’s back more, taking absolutely no offense to Nero’s words.

Cid tol Garlond turned gracefully, bent to grip Dainty around the waist and one arm and promptly hauled her up over one shoulder, the bell around her slender, scaled neck jingling merrily the entire time.

He loved how affectionate she had grown in the time they had been dating however Dainty’s boundaries on quite how much affection in public was social acceptable was somewhat different from his own.

Therefore it occasionally behooved him to physically prevent her from getting a little too enthusiastic about how happy she was to see him until they were no longer in public.

M’Naago, a pretty Seeker of the Sun Mi’qote and Ala Mhigan Resistance operative who had been waiting to speak to the newly returned Lyse watched this turn of events with pointedly raised eyebrows.

She had taken no small amount of shine to Cid tol Garlond. He and Carine had assisted her in downing a large fellkin that had been giving her operatives and the Ananta trouble on 1 of their trade routes.

Despite Cid tol Garlond being Garlean, and her homeland of Ala Mhigo being under Garlean Occupation currently M’Naago had noted a kindness in Cid and, much like Dainty and many other women, had responded to that.

Carine had quickly warned the mi’qote, however, that Cid was spoken for, and utterly devoted to his beloved. What Carine had not mentioned was that that beloved was, in fact, the Warrior of Light.

Or that the steel eye’d hardened Warrior turned into a giggling mess around the handsome Garlean.

Cid tol Garlond locked an arm over the back of Dainty’s thighs and tail, effectively keeping her trapped over his shoulder as he turned back to the schematics that he had been assisting M’Naago with as if this was all perfectly normal.

His insight into Empire built Castra and Weaponry was proving invaluable in plotting their next movements.

“Go.” Nero ordered, pointing towards the red nomadic style tents to the far eastern edge of the encampments where the Scaevan Ironworks had set up shop.

“And have you dock me half-a-days pay? No, thanks.” Cid tol Garlond shot back with a smirk, shifting his weight and the bell around Dainty’s neck jingled in response, prompting more laughter from the Au’Ra.

She braced her hands against his back, pushing her top half up so that she could look at Lyse, Alisaie and Alphinaud, but otherwise did nothing to attempt to free herself.

“I will give you a full day pay on top of what you already worked if you go away right now.” Nero insisted, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

People could say what they liked about his dating a younger woman but at least he and Carine didn’t act like horny teenagers, which is more than could be said for Cid and Dainty.

“Deal!” Cid tol Garlond laughed, turning on his heel and striding off towards the tents accompanied by the jingling of Dainty’s bell and laughter from the Scions.

Dainty waved “bye bye” shamelessly as she was carried swiftly away.

Lyse waited only until they were several steps away and pondered curiously;

“I wonder if she’s going to take the bell of during sex?”

“I will give you 100 gil to walk by the tents in about 10 minutes and find out.” Alisaie challenged boldly, earning her a firm headshake from Lyse;

“No thanks! I don’t need to be conditioned to vomit every time I hear a ringing bell!”

Nero gave a snort of laughter at that before giving Alphinaud a nod;

“Thank you for bringing her back so swiftly.”

“Of course! It is fortunate that our plans allowed for such travel so easily. Although, when you explained the date we would have sent Dainty regardless if we ourselves could not come. Indeed, I, in particular, am fully honored to have been invited to witness such a momentous occasion.”

“Here, here!” Lyse bubbled as Nero scratched a stubbled cheek.

He had not thought the issue at hand was a momentous occasion, if he was honest.

Come the next full moon, which was tomorrow night, he and Carine had been dating 1 full year.  
They had long agreed to follow what Nero believed to be the standard protocol of relationships, where-in they would become engaged after successfully dating for one year.

It was only because Carine had mentioned in passing that she would very much like there to be a party with all their friends after they had become engaged that Nero had even thought to request the Scions’ presence in Rhalgr’s Reach that evening.

They were his few friends above the fellows of the Ironworks, after all.

“How do you plan to pop the question? I have it on good authority Dainty has a case of fireworks stashed under her bed if you need a little extra pizzazz.” Alisaie offered innocently, unaware that her words instantly sent Nero into a quiet panic.

Engagements were supposed to have pizzazz? Why had he never been told this?

He looked calm on the outside, however, giving a lacksidasical shrug;

“Oh nothing fancy. I figured we might take a couple chocobos for a fly to check out the cave system that M’naago mentioned. The Comet’s tail or whatever it was.” 

“Oh and with a full moon, that sounds so romantic! Will you hide some chilled champagne there before hand?” Lyse asked, blue eyes practically aflame with delight and romantic notions. 

“Certainly. I was actually going to ask Dainty to do it, since she can traverse the area so much easier than myself.” Nero replied, thinking quickly. He had had no such plans but would wager that if Lyse thought such a thing was a clever idea then Carine would likely be pleased be the effort.

And when Carine was happy Nero was happy.

“I will do it!” Lyse offered, enthusiastic. “If any Bilko’s get in my way I’ll punch them SO HARD!”

“Perhaps I ought to carry the wine for you then and leave your hands free for punching, Lyse.” Alisaie commented, amused.

Lyse nodded eagerly;

“The Scions are on it. Don’t worry about a thing, Nero!”

**Author's Note:**

> My thanks to Cheddarbug for allowing me to play with her characters Carine, Elaine and Violaine


End file.
